Artemis Fowl and The Time Paradox: A Redux
by Troph
Summary: After his last adventure, Artemis Fowl II has returned home. He has two new brothers, a new set of magical powers and a new woman he's looking to impress. However, when Artemis tries to perform the ritual to renew his powers, the consequences throw him back in time, before he had any adventures with the LEP. With no friends and a dissolving mind, Artemis runs on borrowed time.
1. The Ritual

Dublin, Ireland: 2005

Artemis Fowl II had never once considered life as a sibling, either younger or older. The thought had never crossed his mind and because his parents had never expressed interest in more children in the fourteen years since his birth, he had never had need to contemplate it. However, it was all that was on his mind, aside from the chess game sitting before him and the attractive young lady he was playing against.

The two of them were sitting at a small table on the back lawn of the Fowl Family estate. It was a balmy afternoon, the perfect combination of heat and wind, sun and shade. Artemis could almost feel his skin soaking in the UV rays.

"Arty," said the girl across from him in a soft French accent. "It is your move, cheri."

"Be patient, Minerva," Artemis replied, studying the board with a furrowed brow and trying not to get too excited that Minerva had just called him "darling". "You can't ever rush a chess match." He moved his piece and tapped the duel clock beside the board.

He turned back around to place his attention on his two brothers. They were twins, Myles and Beckett, born during one of the teenage genius' previous adventures. He had not been around for their birth, being suspended in the space-time continuum and missing a whole three years of his life. And the _first_ three years of theirs. He was here for them now, though, and would be for as long as he could.

Myles waddled over to his older brother, his corduroys and bare knees covered in grass stains.

"Myles, do try to stay out of the grass," Artemis scolded, making his move, putting Minerva in check, and lifting the chubby toddler onto his lap.

"Arty," Myles asked in a tiny voice, "I want Mummy." The Fowl parents, Artemis senior and Angeline, were gone on a trip to Italy. It was partially to unwind after a stressful year and partially to meet with a new business partner their father thought would make a lucrative merger.

Artemis sighed. "Mummy and Daddy won't be home for a few weeks," he told the Myles, trying to sound soothing and patient as he put Minerva into another check.

Myles, however, did not yet have a firm grasp of time and all he knew was that he wanted his mother. "I want Mummy," he repeated.

Artemis sighed and set down the child. "Go play with your brother," Artemis urged, putting Minerva in yet another check. "It'll help take your mind of Mummy." Myles didn't look like he'd understood all of what Artemis had said. Only that his big brother was turning him away. He slumped his head and waddled back to where Beckett was chasing a butterfly near the border of the forest that bordered the mansion's rear.

When he had first heard about the twins, Artemis had assumed that they would be genii like himself and his father. However, it had turned out that they were completely normal; they displayed no interest in the sciences or mathematics or arts like Artemis had when he was their age. They had a limited vocabulary of about 200 words whereas Artemis had memorized the entire family dictionary by the time he was four. They seemed to have no desire beyond playing and eating.

Artemis found it taxing. Average intelligence had its charm, but it made it extremely difficult to communicate with his siblings. He couldn't discuss his favorite opera with them because they would often get bored and run off to find a stuffed animal ten minutes into the recording. He tried to come to their level, reading them stories at bedtime and indulging in their requests to do funny voices for the characters. They would laugh and Artemis would smile. The happiness of his brothers was everything to him; he just wasn't very good at supplying it.

"Check," Minerva called, drawing Artemis back to the game. He looked at the board and smiled, which he seemed to be doing more of lately. This particular smile was a favorite of Minerva's; she was fan of old vampire films and often said that Artemis' wolfish grin of triumph reminded her of a handsome Count Dracula.

The boy genius moved his bishop and captured Minerva's queen, eliminating the threat to his king and bringing the game to an end at once.

"Checkmate." Artemis leaned back in his chair, a smirk tugging at his lips that he kept contained. He had discovered that it was unwise to be smug around Minerva who, like Artemis, was not good at losing.

"Good game," she said coolly, turning away to look at the twins playing in the yard. Artemis had been on the receiving end of this before; Butler, his bodyguard, called it "being in the doghouse". Artemis thought quickly to get himself out of it.

"Would you like to stay for dinner tonight?" he asked. "I can conjure some excuse for your father."

Minerva's gaze returned to Artemis. While Minerva often visited Fowl Manor, it was only during the holidays or if her father had business in Ireland. In the latter cases, she would only stay for a full day, at which point a driver would pick her up in the evening.

"What would we be having?" she asked, perfectly mimicking disinterest.

"I'll make us Japanese cuisine," Artemis offered. "Grilled fish, dipping sauce, a side salad. It's divine."

Minerva's eyebrows shot up. "_You _are going to make us dinner?" she asked, incredulous.

Artemis was slightly hurt. "What's so remarkable about that?"

"Artemis Fowl, you couldn't make a bowl of cereal without Butler to help you."

"That sounds like a challenge, Ms. Paradizo." Artemis grinned. "And I accept."

"I await your results tonight, Master Fowl," Minerva replied, slightly blushing.

Artemis blushed as well. It had just occurred to him that he may have just asked Minerva to dinner. A date, if you will. Not bad for a first try.

The silence between the two was broken by the sound of a child screaming. Artemis and Minerva immediately leapt from their seats and sprinted into the backyard. Beckett was in the grass, clutching his leg while Myles stood beside him.

"He tripped over," Myles said as soon as he saw the older children coming towards them.

"He tripped me on purpose!" Beckett shouted through sobs.

"I did not!" Myles shouted back.

"Quiet!" While Artemis' voice wouldn't have carried weight in any other situation, the noise of their older brother's voice was like thunder to the Fowl twins. Myles sucked his lips into his mouth and Beckett tried his best to stop sobbing, though his lip still trembled and little squeaks bubbled from his lips.

Artemis bent down beside his baby brother and gingerly removed his small, pudgy hands.

"It's merely a scrape," the older Fowl said, helping the crying boy up into a sitting position. "Minerva, would you take Myles inside for me? I need to work my magic on Beckett."

Minerva understood immediately and dragged a guilty-looking Myles back to Fowl Manor.

"Now," said Artemis, rubbing his hands together for dramatic effect, "what happened, Beckett?"

The toddler's cheeks were soaked in tears and he was sucking his thumb to keep from crying.

"Did Myles really trip you?" he pressed, moving his hands along his brother's skinned knee. Myles nodded, though he still didn't speak.

"Did he _really_ do it on purpose?" Artemis closed his hand around the chubby knee.

Beckett waited longer before shaking his head.

"So why did you lie to me?" _Heal,_ he thought.

Beckett didn't answer, instead dropping his eyes away from his older brother's piercing stare and continuing to suck his thumb.

"Stop that," he urged as blue sparks danced along his brother's knee. "It's a bad habit." He took his hands off his brother's now repaired leg and forced the thumb from the toddler's eager mouth.

"Why did you lie?" he repeated. His brother continued to avert his gaze and didn't answer.

"Do you know why it's not okay to lie?" Artemis asked, seeing an opportunity for a moral lesson. Artemis Fowl giving morality lessons; his old friend Holly would've had a crack about this.

Beckett nodded.

"Well, why is it?"

"I don't know," Beckett said, shuffling his feet.

Artemis took a breath. "Because it hurts other people, Beckett. If I told you right now that Mummy and Daddy were never coming home, that would be a lie. But how would you feel if I didn't tell you it was a lie?"

"Bad," said Beckett.

"Exactly," said Artemis. "You'd be angry with me, I expect, when you found out that it had been a lie. That would mean you couldn't trust me. When you said Myles tripped you on purpose, that hurt him. It hurt the way he feels about you. It makes him angry with you and not trust you. Do you want your brother to be angry at you? Do you want Myles to think he can't trust you like you trust Mummy, Daddy and me?"

Beckett shook his head, looking even more guilty.

"Good," Artemis said, giving what he hoped was a soothing smile. "Neither do I."

"I'm sorry, Arty," Beckett said, wrapping his little arms around his brother's neck and beginning a new batch of sobs. Artemis wrapped his brother in a hug and lifted him up, carrying him back to the house.

"I forgive you," Artemis said, patting the crying boy on the shoulder. "However, it's Myles you should apologize to." He set Beckett down inside the door of the mansion. The boy had calmed down and was now sniffling as he walked off to find Myles.

At this point, Butler emerged from the hallway door that led to the kitchens. The huge Eurasian bodyguard looked almost comical in his stained apron.

"Everything alright, Artemis?" he asked. "I thought I heard crying."

"Nothing a little magic dust couldn't fix," Artemis replied, twiddling his fingers so that a cloud of sparks jumped in his palm.

Butler frowned at his charge. "You shouldn't be using that, Artemis," he said, turning back to the kitchen. "Especially not on the twins."

Artemis leaned against the frame of the door to the kitchen. Butler was cooking up the Japanese cuisine that he would be passing off as his own later that evening.

"I know," he said and he meant it. "I just couldn't help myself." He meant that too. When he had looked into the crying face of his little brother, all he had wanted to do was make him feel better. "It's over now, anyway. Beckett didn't even notice what happened."

"Where's Minerva?" Butler asked, feigning innocence. As strange as it sounded, Artemis' love life was one of Butler's favorite amusements. His young charge was just entering adolescence. That meant puberty. That meant hormones and delightfully exaggerated reactions from Artemis.

"She'll be with Myles," Artemis replied. "She took him inside. She's staying for dinner, by the way, and thinks I'm cooking that. If you don't mind, I'd prefer not mentioning that you had any part of this."

Butler cracked a smile. "You? Cooking? You can't poor a bowl of cereal without spilling the milk."

Artemis scowled.

"I am impressed," Minerva told Artemis as she finished off her salad. Butler had made it special to accommodate her peanut allergies. They were sitting at the same table as that afternoon, though it was night now, with a sky full to the brim with twinkling stars. The twins had been put to sleep two hours ago and Butler was on his rounds in the house. It was just the two of them now; the boy genius and the girl prodigy.

"Surely not that impressed," Artemis asked, taking a sip of his spring water. Holly and his other fairy friends had all pitched in to send him a whole bottle for his most recent birthday. It was divine. "It's not so difficult to learn the culinary arts with the proper research."

"Having a teacher such as Butler doesn't hurt," Minerva reminded him. Her eyes were drooping and she was leaning back in her chair, breathing deeply.

"Yes," Artemis mused riley. "That was certainly helpful."

He looked back up to find that Minerva was right beside him. She was leaning over him, her face only inches away from his. He could feel her hot breath on his face and his heart did a little jig in his chest.

"You are like nobody I've met, Artemis Fowl," Minerva whisper as she cupped his cheek in her soft hand.

"Likewise." Artemis swallowed and suddenly became very aware that his palms were abnormally sweaty.

Minerva leaned closer to him. Artemis could smell her now, like tea and macrons. He nearly bolted from his chair, but there was something keeping him planted. It wasn't fear that made his heart race, his cheeks flush and his breath come out in short bursts. It was… something else.

Artemis closed his eyes anticipating Minerva's lips touching his… when the security alert went off. The boy fell over in his chair and on to the patio. Minerva bent down to help him up and Butler emerged almost instantaneously outside.

"What happened Artemis?" the bodyguard bent down to check the young man's vitals. "Are you alright?"

"I'm find, Butler," replied Artemis, broken out of his stupor and suddenly feeling very hot in the face. Minerva's cheeks were equally red.

"Well, come inside anyway." Butler lead the two children back through the door. "I'll check the grounds."

The Eurasian bodyguard left the two teenagers in the sitting room. They silently agreed that more attempts at romance were to be made that evening. Instead, they started another game of chess, but every time they would look up to meet each other's eyes, they would smile, blush, and quickly look away.

Butler returned from his investigations shortly after Minerva had been picked up by her driver. He had found nothing on the grounds, not even tracks aside from those of rabbits and squirrels. The bodyguard made a mental note to recalibrate the motion sensors to ignore small wildlife.

He found his charge sleeping in a high-backed armchair next to the fireplace in the sitting room. The fire had long ago burned down to embers. Artemis was slumped over, a line of drool trailing from his mouth. A game of chess lay unfinished on the coffee table. Artemis seemed to have been winning.

Butler stared down at the young Master Fowl smiling. While sleeping, you could almost believe that Artemis Fowl was a normal young man, crashing with exhaustion after a lengthy day of fun.

The bodyguard grabbed a blanket from the couch across the table and gently placed it over the sleeping boy. Butler leaned his head back to avoid posture related issues. He turned off the lamp beside the chair and quietly left Artemis to rest.

Artemis opened one eye, his blue eye. He saw that Butler had gone and could hear the light muffle of his footsteps disappearing down the hall. He'll be going upstairs now, to check on the twins.

Artemis opened his other eye, his hazel one, and slipped out of the blanket. The blanket had been a show of affection, something that Butler was not in the habit of doing except under the most taxing of circumstances. Perhaps his old bodyguard had been growing sentimental since his charge's three-year disappearance and subsequent reappearance. He would need to talk to him about that; he was a bodyguard. Not a nanny.

Artemis silently stepped out onto the back lawn of the estate and knelt down in the grass. He pulled a small spade from his back pocket and began to dig up the earth. His mother would be furious with the ruination of her finely managed lawn, but that was a small price to pay for magic.

Ever since Artemis had returned from his time-hopping journey with stolen magic, he had been testing its possibilities. It had started with basic healing of himself and others. Then it had been the Mesmer, which he had successfully used to get a free coffee from a Starbucks. However, the more Artemis tested his powers, the weaker he felt. Soon, the magic would leave him altogether and he would be ordinary again. Well, ordinary except for the genius level IQ, but ever since he had stolen his magic, he had come to think of that as the new baseline for ordinary. He was the first human in 10,000 years at least to wield magic. He had advanced, evolved, more than usual beyond other humans. The last thing he wanted to do was lose it.

Artemis set down the spade and took a small acorn from his pocket. The acorn had been recovered from an ancient oak over two weeks ago. It was a key component in The Ritual, a practice that restored the magical power of all fairies. Could it be possible, Artemis thought, to restore his own power by the same method?

The world lit with a silvery glow as the moon came out from behind a cloud. It was full, the perfect moon to perform the ritual.

"I return you to the earth," whispered Artemis, repeating the words he had heard from Holly Short, "and claim the gift that is my right."

He shoved the acorn into the earth and waited. A few seconds passed, but nothing happened. Artemis was not unduly concerned, however; it generally took a few seconds before the magic returned to the user.

Ten seconds passed. Then twenty. Then thirty. Still nothing happened. Not even a spark.

Artemis deflated. That was disappointing. He had at least expected a bolt of energy or some other negative response if The Ritual refused him.

He moved to get up only to find that he was stuck. His hand was stuck in the earth where he had planted the acorn. Artemis raised an eyebrow, but didn't panic. Perhaps this was a normal process for non-fairies engaging in The Ritual.

Artemis tugged again, harder, and this time the dirt gave way. An bolt of lightning arced from the hole in the ground and struck the boy with a force that knocked him back. Artemis felt the magic course through him, but not like before. Before, it had been welcome, smooth; he had opened himself up to it. Now, it seemed as though the magic was forcing itself into him, breaking down any barriers and burrowing itself in his soul.

At last, the magic rested inside him and he fell to the ground. Artemis lay there panting, adjusting to this new surge of magic. It seemed to lay in him, as a cinder block lays at the bottom of a lake, rather than flowing through him as a river like before. Perhaps he would need to exercise it to get it flowing.

Artemis felt a twitching in his arms and legs. Probably a result magical shock, he thought, until the twitching turned into a full violent spasm. His limbs were flying, kicking into the air, the ground and each other. It felt like they were going to snap in half or pop out of his sockets.

Suddenly, painfully, his entire body locked itself into a plank. His arms were stuck to his sides, his legs snapped together and his spine was forced into a perfectly straight line. Even his jaw was wired shut, so he couldn't call for Butler's help.

Artemis was thinking quickly, recalling every study and medical journal that had talked about patients going into paralysis or spasms. All they told him was that there was nothing to do for it except wait until it passes or somebody finds you.

Artemis had just accepted the fact that he was going to have to get comfortable in this position until morning, when he felt a tingling. The sensation was everywhere; his organs, his limbs, his face, on and under his skin. He could even feel his hairs vibrating slightly. The tingling grew more intense until it was painful, like every molecule was clattering against one another.

Or, thought Artemis, being forced together. That, he thought, felt more accurate. It was like somebody or something was trying to make him as compact as possible, even on a molecular level.

The pain grew to the point where Artemis would've screamed if his jaw hadn't been forced shut. It was like he was folding in on himself, being pushed into a small hole like a napkin being forced through on the end of somebody's finger.

Artemis' vision went white, then red, then black, then a whole rainbow of colors, some of which had never seen. It all came through a haze of excruciating pain, confusion and, most of all, helplessness. Artemis Fowl was completely helpless, a feeling he did not have often. He couldn't move, cry for help or even see what was happening to him in the moment. All he could do was wait and hope that it would stop eventually.

Butler would come downstairs the next morning expecting to find his charge in the armchair. When he wasn't there, he checked the kitchen, but he wasn't there either. He checked the entire house and grounds, but could find no trace of his closest friend. The only clue he found was a rusty miniature spade and a crude hole of freshly-dug earth.


	2. Holly's Eye

Ancient Oak, Irish Countryside, 2005

LEP Recon Captain Holly Short finished The Ritual in the shadow of an ancient oak. The refreshing magic spread throughout her body to the tips of her pointed ears.

The elf laid on her back in the untamed grace, soaking in the luminous glow of the moon and taking in the smell of fresh dew. These were the times she lived for; it had been too long since she'd been last been above ground. In the two months since her last adventure with Artemis Fowl, she had been under constant surveillance for health reasons and had endured a mercilessly long enquiry by the High Council of Haven City. They had only released her now to complete her ritual and restore her magic. She was going to milk it as long as she could.

She heard a buzzing from her discarded helmet and fit it on her small head.

"Hello?" she said as her visor sprang into action. The face of Foaly, the LEP's resident centaur genius, popped up in the upper right corner of her view.

"Hey Holly!" The centaur grinned at her. "I've got something you might want to see."

The helmet's visor brought up a feed of security camera footage. The footage showed a softly-lit, well-kept lawn. Two humans were sitting at a small table, having dinner in the light of a small candelabra.

Holly squinted. "Is that…?"

"Artemis!" Foaly confirmed. "On a date!"

The LEP still had Artemis under constant observation, partially for his own safety and partially for the sake of the People, the underground society of fairies. You never knew when the Irish boy would decide to dabble in their affairs again.

"Darvit!" Holly swore, but she couldn't help smiling. She had lost a bet with Foaly that the mudboy would have the courage to ask Minerva out in at least three months. Holly had bet it wouldn't happen within the year. Still, it was equal parts amusing and charming to see Artemis Fowl on anything as mundane as a date. She would expect dinner with the young genius to involve poison in the steak or tranquilizer in the champagne.

"This was earlier this evening," Foaly said, his face nearly splitting open from grinning. "It gets better!"

Holly watched as Minerva got up from the table and moved over to Artemis. She leaned over and towards him.

"No way!" From dating to a kiss. What other impossible firsts could Artemis squeeze in to a single evening?

"Keep watching," Foaly urged as Minerva and Artemis moved closer to each other. "This is where I come in."

Just before the two humans came together, a screeching alarm went off on the Fowl Manor grounds. Lights flashed and Artemis fell out of his chair, probably staining his spotless button-up in the grass.

"Foaly!" Holly scolded him, trying to keep herself from laughing. "Have you no respect for romance?"

"I do," the centaur replied, flicking his newly braided tail (the work of his girlfriend Cabaline). "But I have a deeper respect for practical jokes. And besides, you're one to talk about romance."

Holly blushed. She had recently gone on a few unsatisfactory dates with Trouble Kelp, the new commander of the LEP. He was a brave elf and a good leader, but he was eternally self-serious and only knew how to talk about work. There just wasn't that fun spark Holly was looking for.

"Fair point," Holly relented. It's not like she could deny it.

"Anyway," Foaly said, moving on, "you better get back to Haven, stat. People are starting to wonder where you've gone and it's nearly time for your next meeting.

Holly groaned. It had been non-stop with the LEP and its inquiries. They needed to know what she'd been doing, what her interactions with the demons were, how Artemis had interacted with them, if the warlocks could be trusted. It went on and on without much point. How much more could they possibly need to know?

Holly strapped her wings back on and took off. The wind whipped past her face as she rose higher, letting herself drop when she reached 300 meters. Gravity plunged her into a dive, straight towards the surface of the Irish Sea.

She was at 100 meters, a good place to pull out. She reached for her wing controls when she was suddenly struck with a wave of searing pain. Her whole body froze up where it was and she started to vibrate.

"Holly?" Foaly cut into her coms. "Holly is something wrong?"

Holly didn't answer. She couldn't. Her teeth were chattering rapidly and she couldn't get them to stop. She was at 50 meters now, dangerously close to the surface of the water.

"Holly! Pull up!" Foaly shouted in her ear.

A surge of magic shot through Holly's body. Immediately, her limbs loosened and she activated her wings. Her foot skimmed the waves as she put a burst of energy into the thrusters.

"Oh thank the gods!" Foaly sighed with relief. "What happened there?"

"Dunno," Holly said, through deep breaths as she tried to calm herself. "I just froze up."

"You were paralyzed?" Holly could hear Foaly typing furiously. "I just let the med center know."

"Foaly, I'm fine now," Holly insisted, even though her head felt light, her eye hurt and she was pretty sure she tasted blood. She wasn't about to be detained by yet more observations.

"This could be a side effect of the time travel," Foaly insisted. "The warlocks are gonna want to have a look at you."

Holly groaned. It would be another few months of being trapped underground. Foaly was right, though; they were still researching the effects of time travel on her and the two warlocks that had come with her to Haven City. There was no avoiding it.

"I'll be there in a few hours," Holly responded, turning off her comlink and sulking about the boredom and bureaucracy in her immediate future.

After a shuttle ride to the center of Haven, struggling to get a cab and getting past the convict line without getting pickpocketed, Holly finally arrived at the LEP medical wing. It was a small, underfunded wing of the department; the assumption that since fairies have the ability to heal themselves, there would be no need for a large hospital wing.

The only occupants were Commander Kelp, Foaly, Qwan, an old warlock, and No 1, his apprentice. The latter two were rubbing their heads, the magic runes on their bodies flickering with red and blue light.

"Holly!" Foaly spotted her first and cantered over to hug her, but just stopped short. "What's wrong with your eye?"

"My eye?" Holly asked, reaching up to touch the lower lid of her left eye. Her fingers came back red.

"What exactly happened, Captain?" Kelp asked, in the mode of decisive commander. Holly relayed what had happened over the sea; the paralysis, the pain, the chattering teeth.

"That's what happened to us!" chimed in No 1, still caressing his temples.

"Something powerful happened a few hours ago," Qwan concluded; his runes were still flickering. "Somebody used some very strong magic to make us all react that way."

"Did anybody else feel it?" Holly asked looking to the commander.

"We're asking around now, but so far it's only you three."

"Might it have something to do with the time stream?" No 1 suggested, his runes finally calming. "Could there still be residual effects."

"There shouldn't be," Qwan mused. "From the little I know, time travel shouldn't be a problem now that Hybras has been removed as an anomaly."

"Could it have been Fowl?" Kelp suggested. "You mentioned that he was able to syphon magic in the time stream. Perhaps he did something to cause this."

"Unlikely," said Holly. "He used up all his magic to get us back home."

"He told you this, Captain?"

Holly nodded.

"Can we trust him?"

Holly frowned. "With all due respect, Commander, Artemis has been nothing but a friend to the People for many years now. I doubt he would lie to us about something so important."

"Really?" The commander raised an eyebrow. Holly tried to rationalize it to herself; the commander hadn't had as much direct contact with the Fowls as she had. Most fairies only knew Artemis Fowl for the incident when he had kidnapped her and stolen half their gold. He couldn't understand how much the boy had changed from the dangerous criminal mastermind he had been.

Holly turned to the centaur, hoping to find support, but even Foaly was looking doubtful. "This wouldn't be the first time Artemis lied to us as our friend, Holly," he reminded her. Holly knew the centaur was right; the sneaky mudboy had exploited the People, lied to them and kept them in the dark about his plans. Even when he was trying to help them.

Holly sighed and flipped her visor back over her face. "I'll call him."

A picture of Artemis slid into her field of view as the helmet dialed his number. It was of him and his two brothers at the beach. Artemis was crouched beside them, one of them holding his hand and the other burying his face in the shoulder of his older brother. Artemis had sent it to her to replace the default glaring photograph the LEP had on his file.

The dial tone cut off.

Holly waited for the boy's icy Irish tones to come through the speakers, but there was nothing but quiet.

"Hello?" Holly ventured, her heart rate starting to accelerate. "Artemis?"

Suddenly, her helmet filled with deafening static. It screamed, thrashed, buzzed and crackled in her earpiece, pushing her eardrums to their breaking point.

She threw off her helmet and sat on a surgery table, massaging her ears and holding her left eye. It was bleeding again and it hurt even worse than before.

"What happened?" Foaly was nearly panicking. He hadn't been the same to Holly since her reappearance. He'd been over her shoulder almost constantly.

"Static…" Holly's voice sounded muffled to her ears. Everything sounded muffled.

Qwan walked over to the helmet and put it on his own head. His mouth straightened into a grim line.

"Time." The old warlock removed the helmet. "That was the sound of time. The mudboy is in the time stream as we speak."

Holly's hearing began to clear as the magic repaired her eardrums. Even with that Holly wasn't sure she had heard correctly. "He's what?"

"Artemis is traveling through time," Foaly repeated.

Holly still couldn't comprehend. Artemis had lied to her, his best friend. She shouldn't have been surprised or hurt by this, but she was. She thought they'd moved past the stage of deceit and mistrust, a point where they could tell each other everything, even things nobody else knew.

Mixed in with the sense of betrayal was a sense of panic. Artemis, traitorous mudboy as he was, was still her friend. She could give him a good thrashing after she saved him.

"Can we figure out where he's going?" Holly asked, jumping off the table.

"Well, it'd technically be 'when' he's going," Foaly commented.

Holly ignored him, addressing the warlock.

"Can you find where he's going?"

"Possibly…" Qwan turned the helmet in his hands, thinking. "It could be possible to partially enter the time stream, but that's only theoretical."

"Do it anyway!" Holly had to fight to keep her voice together.

"Hold on, Captain," Commander Kelp interjected. He had stood off to the sidelines, watching the drama unfold. "You're overstepping your boundaries. The use of the warlocks is entirely up to me. And I say we won't use them to save a mudman who has caused us this much trouble."

Holly was shocked. Kelp was overly stiff and not much fun, but he was honorable. He would never leave behind an innocent. If you could call Artemis innocent.

"Commander, I more than anyone am familiar with the People's troubled history with Artemis Fowl. But since the original incident, Fowl has grown into something resembling a respectable human being."

"I understand your personal attachment to the Fowl boy," the commander said, scowling at her. "However, I will not risk the life of one of my officers on a rescue mission for _Artemis Fowl_. And I will certainly not risk losing one of the only two warlocks in existence on a theoretical exercise."

"Commander-"

"That's final, Captain!" Kelp shouted at her and just for a moment he looked exactly like Julius Root, Holly's ex-commander and teacher. She remembered his face as the bomb on his chest exploded, the sad smile he gave her. She would not lose another friend.

She snapped to attention and saluted. "Yes, sir." She took her helmet out of Qwan's hands and left the medical wing.

On the taxi ride home she stared out the window, into the ceiling of the massive cave that housed the last fairy city. Her own reflection stared back at her, with two different eyes. One was her own, golden hazel. The other was blue; it had belonged to Artemis. They had unintentionally swapped left eyes in the time stream and now each had a piece of the other.

"We are connected," Artemis had remarked. "Now and always."

Holly realized that this was why she had been so affected. When Artemis went into the time stream, he had taken her eye with him. The pull had wanted the rest of her.

We are connected, she thought. In more ways than one.

"Artemis," Holly murmured, staring into her bright blue eye, "why do I always have to save you?"


	3. Time Locked

Artemis was sure that he was time traveling. The chaos around him looked similar to when he, Holly and the two warlocks had traveled similarly just two months before. However, that time the travel had been smooth. Their molecules and minds had been taken through the current of time, freely flying along the essence of history.

This was much different and much worse. Artemis felt as though he were being crushed, squeezed together and pushed against a wall. And he was alone; when Holly was with him, their minds were one. They were as close as they would ever be, company in the chaos of time. Now, Artemis could neither hear or feel anything except the racing of his own mind and the rumbling around him.

Focus, he thought. You need to keep your mind busy or it'll be lost to you. He was still painfully paralyzed, but his vision had cleared. The time around him moved differently; whereas his previous experiences had been vague, cosmic and transcendent, this was more discernable. The time around him looked structured, almost like a tunnel or a hallway. He could see images flying by him as if they were painted on walls. He wasn't jumping around in time, being deposited from one point to the next without guidance. He was being sent somewhere. There was a destination, he decided.

The time also seemed to move around him instead of the other way around. Artemis couldn't feel himself moving, more like he was standing there as the hallway moved around him. The reason, he assumed, was so that he wouldn't fall apart while traveling.

Suddenly, over the rumble of time and the buzzing in his head, he heard a ringing phone. His eyes flicked to his sides, to the ring on his hand that he couldn't see. It was the communicator ring that Holly had given him so that they could talk directly.

Artemis fought against the overwhelming force putting him in place, determined to let Holly know he was there. The harder he pushed, the more the force fought against him. Artemis could feel his bones straining against it, on the verge of snapping, but he wasn't going to let something like the power of time stop him.

One centimeter at a time, his fingers nearly snapping out of their sockets, he rose the ring to his face, opened it and raised it to his ear. He felt like he was lifting a thousand pounds instead of a tiny golden ring on the end of a boney arm.

"Hello?" Artemis heard Holly's voice coming through the speaker and he felt his heart leap. Just hearing her voice was enough; he didn't feel so alone anymore. "Artemis?"

Several things happened at once. Artemis tried to open his wired jaw, only to have it be forced shut tighter than before. He could feel several of his teeth cracking as they smashed together. His arm with the ring phone was forced back to his side and Artemis could feel the metal break his flesh. His head was filled with a violent static, his ears popped and he felt a blood vessel in his left eye break. The molecules in his body squeezed closer together, vibrating with so much friction that Artemis could feel himself getting hotter.

His sight went into a splash of colors, then black, then red, then a blinding white. A huge rumbling filled his ears and he lost consciousness.

Artemis woke to the smell of garbage and the sound of busy city traffic. He opened his eyes, blinked a few times and was met with a spectacular view of an unfamiliar skyscraper. The architecture looked 21st century, so either he was only a few years into the past or he was in a time when this sort of modernist style was becoming retro.

The Irish boy attempted to lift himself into a sitting position, but immediately collapse back onto his back. His entire body felt wrong. It wasn't just that it hurt (it did; he was certain that the radius in his left arm was broken), but that it didn't feel like his body. He couldn't quite understand what had happened. He waved his good arm experimentally and froze.

Unlike others who use the phrase hyperbolically, Artemis Fowl does actually know everything about the back of his hand. He keeps mental note of every scar, stain and birthmark that had left itself on his skin. There was a scar on the knuckle of his ring finger that he felt a special connection to; he had received during the Bwa-kel goblin rebellion almost 2 years previously. It was a reminder of the first time he had helped the People; somebody other than himself.

It was gone.

Artemis blinked, hard, something that he noticed was taking a lot of effort, and looked again. The crescent-moon scar had just disappeared.

Then he noticed the cuff of his button-up, which seemed to have grown twice its size. It looked as though a small child had tried on his father's clothes.

That thought sent of sparks in the boy's brain. He slowly, painfully made his way to a sitting position and looked around for some reflective surface. He was in a dirty alleyway, just outside the backdoor of some restaurant called "James' Place". Trash bins, loose bits of grimy paper and molding food surrounded him and any glass was from broken bottles. Nothing mirror-like.

The door flew open in front of him and Artemis instinctively back peddled. It was a mistake; his arm screamed in pain and he fell back down gasping. An elderly man in a dirty apron came out to the alley, carrying a trash bag over his shoulder. It fell from his hands as he noticed Artemis and ran toward the damaged boy.

"Holy crap…" the man said, crossing himself. "Hey, kid, you okay?" His accent was a thick Manhattan twang, helping Artemis know that he had landed in New York City.

"Mirror…" Artemis hissed. His breath had left him and he was certain that his bottom rib had been bruised, maybe broken.

"Uh… uh…" the man was fervently rubbing his hands together. A stressful tic. "Let me call an ambulance. I'll let my boss know. Just sit tight." He ran back inside, the screen door slamming behind him.

Artemis laid there, feeling broken and a theory swimming in his mind. It would explain a lot of things; the compression in the time stream, the sudden growth of his shirt, the fact that his left eye was very difficult to close.

He lifted his right hand up to his left eye and prodded at the lid. It felt huge, like it was trying to contain a small apple rather than an eyeball. Artemis remembered the first time he'd noticed he and Holly had switched eyes; hers was small for him, being a human, and his had been too big for her, being a fairy. Holly had to shrink down their eyes using magic so that they would be the proper proportions. Artemis had wondered if this would be constantly necessary as he grew older, if the eye would refuse to adjust to his biology and remain the same size until adjusted.

The door was flung open again, this time by an older, heavy-set woman in ridiculous eye makeup and a big hairdo.

"Good God!" she cried, leaning down next to Artemis. "What happened to you, boy? What's with your eye? You know it's bleeding?"

"Mirror, please," Artemis whispered again, this time taking care not to brush his lungs against his rib.

"A mirror?" the woman asked, incredulous. "I don't have a mirror, hun. Besides, you don't wanna see your face right now."

"Makeup mirror?" Artemis asked.

The woman shrugged. "Okay, kiddo. Don't say I didn't warn you."

The lady reached into the pocket of her apron and took out and old and much used handheld mirror. Artemis gingerly opened it with his right hand and saw a much younger Artemis Fowl II staring back at him. This one was at least nine years old, with fewer frown lines in his forehead and a bulging left eye that seemed in danger of popping out of his head.

Artemis gave the mirror back to the pudgy woman. "Thank you," he said, trying to calm his breathing.

"An ambulance is on its way, sweetie," the woman assured him. "Don't worry."

"Worry…" Artemis was staring back at the skyscraper that he had first seen after landing. It finally dawned on him why he hadn't recognized it before. He had only seen it once in person and then again when it had been destroyed on live television.

It was the South Tower of the World Trade Center.


	4. Holly's Dream

Holly's first priority was to contact the Butlers, Domovoi and Juliet. She contacted the bodyguard first, but he didn't answer. She left him a message explaining what happened and then contacted Juliet, who was more likely to be awake as she was in America.

"Hey fairy girl," Juliet chirped happily through the speaker, though Holly had to cut the mood short.

"Juliet, Artemis is missing. We need you in Ireland immediately."

There was a pause. "I'm on the next flight," Juliet said, hanging up.

Holly allowed herself some relief as she hung up the phone. At the least the brother/sister duo would be back together. Butler would be awake in a few hours come daylight and Juliet would arrive at Fowl Manor at roughly the same time.

The elf captain's second objective was to visit an old friend. His offices had been relocated. No long was "Diggums Investigations" housed in a one story building that used to be a real estate agency. Now, it was a clean, two story building carved out of limestone. This was presumably so that the dwarf didn't have to walk down the street if he wanted a snack; he could just take a bite out of the wall.

Holly couldn't help but be impressed. In the three years she'd gone, Mulch had turned a dinky private business into a popular resource for the rich with cheating wives and the police who needed somebody who could bend the rules. He'd even gotten a new partner, Doo Da Day, who was a sort of brother in arms with Mulch; both had been career criminals before they'd become friends with the law. And they'd been surprisingly good at fighting crime. Holly couldn't help but wonder if she'd been holding the dwarf back somehow when she'd been his partner.

A bell above the door rung as Holly stepped through and Doo Da Day, an impish looking pixie, skidded to a stop on his way down from the second floor.

"Mulch!" he called back up the stairs. "We've got Holly!"

Holly could hear the dwarf scurrying across the floor to the stairs. Day wisely made it all the way down the stone stairs by the time Mulch came bounding down, practically leaping at Holly and wrapping her in a hug.

"Holly! Gods, I've missed you! How are you? How's Foaly? How's Arty?"

Holly would never admit it, but she was just as happy to see Mulch as he was to see her. The two had become strange friends; they had both fought for and against Artemis Fowl on multiple occasions. They had unintentionally become brothers in arms.

It hurt Holly to push the hairy, stinky creature away from her. "Actually, Artemis is the reason I'm here."

"Of course he is." Mulch smiled ruefully. "So, what does the mudboy need us to do this time? Steal a spaceship? Take a bite out of an annoying school teacher? Give him romantic advice?"

"He's traveled through time."

Mulch's beard hair curled. "It's gotta be more than that. He's done it before."

"We think he tried to use magic," Holly explained. "It backfired. And now we think he's just bouncing around the time stream. Foaly's trying to trace the quantum energy now."

"Since when does a mudboy have magic?" Day asked, his thin eyebrows shooting to the top of his considerable forehead. Holly explained about stealing magic in the time stream. Mulch whistled, impressed.

"Sneaky little bastard," he muttered. "So, what do you need us to do?"

"Firstly, I need you to get into the LEP and steal my equipment. I'm not supposed to go above ground, so the commander will get suspicious if he sees me with them."

The two former thieves sniggered. "Shouldn't be too hard to slip past old Trouble," Mulch chuckled. "Good guy, but couldn't smell a stinkworm if you held it underneath his nose. C'mon Holly, give me a challenge."

Holly cocked an eyebrow. "Alright; I need you to track down Opal Koboi."

Both dwarf and pixie stared at her like she'd gone mad. The infamous fairy had tried to take over the world and murder every single one of them. Twice.

"What the hell for?" Mulch asked. "She's probably dead anyway, Holly. She went down in a metal ship."

"True," Holly conceded, "but I want you to look anyway."

"But why?" Day asked, incredulously.

"We need to cover all of our bases," Holly explained. "It's possible that this could be some form of sabotage. And the only person we know who means Artemis harm and is smart enough to do this is Koboi. We need to eliminate her as a possibility."

The dwarf frowned, not entirely convinced. "Okay…" he said trailing off. "We'll see what we can dig up."

"Can't promise nothing, though," Day chimed in, almost too quickly. Holly got the feeling that this is what they often told their clients.

After a goodbye hug to Mulch, Holly took out her mobile phone.

"Foaly, I need an update." She took off down the street to her apartment building.

"I went over the Fowl Manor security cameras from later in the evening," Foaly explained and Holly heard tapping sounds as the centaur ran his fingers along his keyboard. "Looks like Artemis woke up in the middle of the night and tried to perform the ritual in his backyard."

Holly nearly stopped dead at that. She had never considered a human trying to perform the ritual; it had never been done.

"And that's what started it?" she guessed.

"Near as I can tell. After that, Artemis starts thrashing, he seizes up and then…" More tapping of the keyboard. "He kind of fades out."

"What?" It was all Holly could say; she was saving her breath for running.

"Just what I said," Foaly repeated. "He just dissolves off the lawn. It wasn't instantaneous like normal time travel. It's like a dissolve transition in a movie."

Holly made it to her apartment and immediately got busy making a pot of coffee. Artemis had sent her a modified roaster and a packet of beans last month. She needed to do something. Anything. She'd go insane if she sat down now.

"Have you been able to figure out where he's going?" She spilled half the beans on the floor of her kitchen.

"Unfortunately, no." Foaly ran the explanation in his head, trying to figure out how best to explain it. "The thing is, well, this is a completely new case of time travel. The execution is different, the source of the anomaly is unknown. _Everything_ about this situation is unknown. We don't even have a model to explore it. We could make one when Hybras was around because we had more than one example. Demons were popping up everywhere, from and to one location. We could time them, make an algorithm out of it. With this one, we have no examples to follow. I can't trace it."

"So, Artemis is hurtling through time going gods know where and all you can tell is that we can't tell anything. Great." Foaly heard a sip on the other end.

"Are you drinking coffee…" he checked his watch, "… at five o clock in the morning?"

"No," Holly said, taking another gulp. "Shut up." Her ears twitched. Coffee can have a very strong effect on somebody as small as a fairy.

"Holly, have you gotten any sleep tonight?"

"No." Another sip.

"Holly, put the coffee down and go to sleep if you still can."

Holly was silent for a while as she paced the floor of her living room.

"Have you even thought about what you're going to do?" the centaur asked. That made Holly stop.

"What do you mean? I'm going to help Artemis."

"Yes, but do you know how?" Foaly sounded almost pleading. "Think about it Holly. You can't get into the timeline. And even if you could you have no idea where to start looking. You called the Butlers. What are they supposed to do? Do you think Artemis has a time machine in the Manor's basement? You sent Mulch and Day looking for Opal Koboi; what should they do if they find her?"

Holly scowled to stop her lip from trembling. "I'm covering all my bases."

Foaly countered, "You're grasping at straws."

Holly slumped on to the couch, feeling like she was going to cry. Foaly was right; she had no plan. She had no idea what to do. She only knew one thing:

"It can't end like this Foaly," she said, nearly crying. "We've been through too much. It doesn't end with Artemis stranded out of time and me living the rest of my life without him. I can't just sit here and do nothing."

"You've got more people than yourself on this Holly," Foaly reminded her. "People who also have a friend on the line."

"But—"

"Go to sleep. I'll call you if anything turns up."

"Promise?"

"Do I ever lie?"

Holly closed the phone and lay on to her couch. She didn't feel like going to sleep, especially with the caffeine in her brain. She used her magic to help relax her brain, a sort of pleasant humming that acted like a massage. She leaned back, shut her eyes and drifted off.

* * *

She dreamt that she was in an ambulance. A group of paramedics leaned over her, watching her with concerned eyes.

"He's awake," one of them said. "Or at least he's conscious."

Holly looked around her, raising her left hand to her face. It was covered in a cast and something was burned into her fingers.

"Easy." The paramedic on her left put his hand on the cast, pushing it down to the portable bed. "You have a broken rib. Try not to move. Nod if you understand that."

Holly nodded.

"What's your name, kiddo?" the man on her right asked as he put a drip into her arm.

"Artemis," she heard herself say. Her voice sounded thin and far away.

"Do you know where you are, Artemis?" the one on the left asked.

"Manhattan," she said. Her head lulled to the side and she could smell the iron of blood.

"Goddammit," the medic swore as she faded from the dream. "That eye is bleeding again."

* * *

Holly awoke to the sound of a knock at her door. She whipped around to see an envelope slipped under her door.

She quickly jumped over the sofa and threw open the door, catching a glimpse of a figure running a corner at the other end of the hall.

"Hey!" Holly took off after them, just in time to see him walk out the lobby door.

"Stop!" She shouted. "LEP!"

The streets were packed with people and the soft glow of the illuminating cave crystals wasn't enough to help her spot her runner.

She went back to her apartment and tore open the letter. There was only one slip of paper and on that slip of paper were two words.

1998

-Artemis

Holly frantically dug the envelope out of the trash and checked the stamp date. 1998.

Holly's heart leapt. For the first time since Fowl disappeared, she had a plan forming in her mind.

She whipped out her cell phone and checked the time. 13:04. There were several messages from both the Butlers, asking where she was and where Artemis had gone. Instead of calling them, however, she dialed the number of Minerva Paradiso. If it took one genius to get himself into trouble it would take another to get him out of it.

**AN: First of all, thanks for the people who are enjoying the fic so far. I'm having fun writing it and it's nice to know that people like my work.**

**Secondly, I need to address something about Opal Koboi. At the end of the fourth book, the Opal Deception, she was taken in by LEP authorities. However, for the purposes of this adventure, I've retconned it so that she was never found after she crashed in the field of an Italian woman. This will come into significant play later. Or at least it should if I don't completely forget about it later. I'm coming up with these chapters on the fly; it's sort of a creative writing exercise.**

**Thirdly, even though so far I've uploaded one of these daily (I write the chapters quickly to keep up the momentum) I'm not sure how long I can keep up that work ethic. Even when not in school I have responsibilities to attend to. And I suspect having this many chapters is giving my readers burn out just as much as me. A new chapter will come tomorrow, but then expect them to start coming more weekly.**

**Thanks again for reading. God bless!**


	5. Elbow Grease

Mulch Diggums knew the LEP well enough that he could do it with his eyes closed. He had broken into and out of the Lower Elements Police Department on numerous occasions. He could do this job on autopilot, letting his unhinged jaw chew its way through the loose earth under the barracks building. This was good, because it gave Mulch some time to concentrate on what was really bothering him.

Holly Short was not acting like Mulch knew her. Holly was collected, disciplined, the moral center of their strange little group. Now, it seemed as though she'd jumped into the deep end herself. What could she have wanted them to go after Opal Koboi for? What could she have to do with this? All Mulch could assume was that Holly was scared and a scared Holly wasn't any use to anybody.

Mulch made a slow curve upwards and began ascending towards the tile floor of the barracks. The sensitive beard hairs picked up vibrations above. Footsteps.

Mulch got as close as he dared to the top without taking a bite out of the floor itself and pressed his chin up against the "ceiling". It was painful for his neck, but it was worth it. With a more direct link to the source, his beard hair could pick up the vibrations up above; that included vocal cords.

"Wham! I slammed him down to the floor and said, 'The jig is up!'"

"Ha! That's hilarious!"

"So, what's this I hear about Captain Short and the Commander?"

Mulch groaned. He really didn't want to hear Holly's love life described by these two imbeciles.

"Well, not much anymore from what I heard. They went on like three dates and— "

"No, I mean what was that row earlier?"

"Oh yeah. Nobody in that room is talking, not even the warlocks, but I heard from the janitor that it had something to do with the Fowl kid."

"Artemis Fowl?" the voice sounded terrified. "He's not gonna come after us again, is he?"

"Nah, he wouldn't do that. From what I heard the mudboy reformed. From what the janitor said it was more like the kid was in trouble."

"Oh…" the voice sounded more relaxed. "Well, that outta make the boss lady happy."

Mulch gave a confused smirk. Were they talking about the commander? If they were, that was funny, but Mulch couldn't see why. Trouble Kelp looked the furthest thing from a woman as you can get.

"Yeah, well, maybe not," the other voice chimed in. "She might've wanted to kill him herself."

Mulch frowned at that. Kelp may have had no love for Artemis, but he'd never sensed that much hostility off the fairy. Murder just wasn't his style. Then again, they could just be trading hyperbole.

The two morons finally left the barracks, finally giving Mulch the safety to A) released the dwarf gas that had built up in his stomach and B) take a huge bite out of the floor of the barracks. Mulch winced as he chewed; tile wasn't a dwarf's favorite thing to eat. It could get stuck between the teeth, come off in shards and cut the tongue and it was incredibly difficult to chew.

Mulch was still chewing as he made his way over to Holly's locker, easily picked deciphered the combination and scooped all her gadgets into an empty sack. The only problematic item was the wing pack; the wings didn't contract, so it was too straight to fit in the sack. Mulch couldn't carry it on his back as it might scrape against the tunnel ceiling.

Well, Mulch thought, unhinging his jaw, let's see just how big we can get.

Mulch tossed the sack into the air and caught it in his mouth. The bag tasted like mold and mildew. Not bad.

The door of the barracks flew open and in stumbled two elf officers, furiously snogging. Mulch froze, wondering how long it would take them to notice. Not long, as it turned out.

The female office sprawled out on one of the benches, her head hanging off the end. She caught a glimpse of Mulch and her mouth fell (rose?) open. The male noticed her staring and copied her.

"Well," the dwarf tried to say, taking the wing pack and moving towards the hole, "don't let me stop you." It only came out as muffling from the sack between his teeth.

The two officers sprang up and rushed to their lockers, looking to retrieve their weapons. By the time they whipped around with their Nutrino 4000 pistols, though, Mulch had already disappeared back into the tunnel.

Well, Mulch thought as he popped out of the hole just outside his office building, there goes the PI license. The things I do for friendship.

Mulch spat the bag out onto the lobby floor, rehinged his jaw and went upstairs to the sitting room. "Mulch Investigations" was part business and part house, so the second floor had been decked out with two bedrooms, a bathroom and a sitting room complete with big screen TV. The latter item had been stolen, but there was no reason to tell that to the landlord.

Doo Da Day sat in one of the chairs by the TV, which was running a mudman news channel. He was typing furiously into a small laptop that laid across his lap. He looked up when he saw Mulch enter.

"How'd it go?"

Mulch grimaced. "Well, the good news is we've got Holly's stuff. The bad news— "

"You were seen, weren't you?" the pixie finished.

"There will be an inquiry, yes." Mulch thought it was time to change the subject. "What about you? Any luck finding Koboi?"

"I've been researching birth records of little people in Italy." Day was frowning as he took a bite from his dish of clams that sat on the coffee table. "Nobody that sounds like it could be Opal."

"What about famous ones or ones that are the head of big companies?" Mulch knew Koboi couldn't resist getting attention, but Day shook his head.

"None of them are even close to looking like Opal. Even when she made herself look human she still had a pretty distinctive face; she would be easy to spot."

Mulch was tempted to tell him to hang it up. Opal Koboi was probably dead and Holly was probably being paranoid. Still, a few of his beard hairs curled in anticipation. _Always trust the hair,_ his granny had told him.

"Well, keep looking anyway." He started back downstairs. "I've gotta get to the surface and back before the police get here."

Day rolled his eyes. Whatever. He closed the laptop on a picture of Warwick Davis (who was actually a gnome in disguise), and turned the volume up on the TV.

"More bodies pile up as the gang wars in Rome escalate. A new unknown crime boss calling themselves 'Queen Bee' has been making huge moves against the established Sicilian families, according to the local authorities. Viewers are advised: the images accompanying this news report may be disturbing to young viewers."

Day changed the channel, bringing up the footrest on his chair. He didn't need to see dead bodies today. There were soaps to watch.

Thousands of miles above Doo Da Day, on the planet's surface, Opal Koboi kept the channel right where it was. The camera lingered over video of dead bodies and trashed storefronts. She took a sip of the blood red wine she had ordered and smiled. It was always nice to see your work on television.

* * *

When Opal Koboi first crashed into the field of an old Italian woman and used the last of her magic to persuade her that she was her daughter, the pixie thought her life was over. She had been forced to pick crops, wash dishes and fold clothes like a slave. It was so awful that she almost wished the LEP would come and find her. However, with each passing day of labor, her muscles hardened, her hands became more calloused and she breathed easier with every heft of the laundry hamper. And if she ever grew tired or thought of giving up on a task, she reminded herself of what she wanted: vengeance. Artemis Fowl had once again defeated her and the embarrassment swirled into a boiling hot cauldron of hatred. The mudboy would pay in blood and if she was going to make that happen, she would need to improve. Thus, she gritted her teeth and continued with her chores.

Opal was eventually allowed to explore the city by her adopted mother, though she supposed it was so that Opal could play with friends her "own" age. Instead, the pixy feverishly explored every detail of the region. Through her exploration, she found that she had been extraordinarily lucky. She had landed, of all places, in Sicily, birthplace of the mafia. Opal saw opportunity, but she also saw disadvantage. Her revenge required an army, but these gangsters were less than likely to give their loyalty to her. The mafia families of Sicily were quite literally families, held together by blood ties and an unbreakable oath of loyalty. What's more, the Dons, or heads, of the families were never women. If Opal was to have their allegiance, she would have to earn it in the most spectacular ways.

She started by doing the local Don's numbers; he had a huge protection racket on several islands around mainland Italy and needed to make sure his men weren't holding anything back. They weren't, but Opal made it look like they did anyway. Several loyal lieutenants were skinned alive and thrown into the sea thanks to her.

The Don put more and more trust in her as the months went on. Opal grew stronger and more deadly the more chores she did and fights she got into. And more and more LEP officers went mysteriously missing in the Italian countryside after receiving mysterious calls that Opal Koboi had been spotted in Sicily.

When the Don finally died some months later, his sons, who would've taken over the business, were not happy. Their father's will demanded that control of the empire be given to "Belinda," his most trusted advisor. His sons argued that, aside from being a woman, she wasn't even family. What right did she have to the empire? These complaints were silenced days later, as Koboi managed to kill all of them in an extended fist fight in front of all of her new lieutenants. Koboi's reputation was sealed and she began running all the other gangs out of the mainland.

However, the obtaining of territory and money was not the end for the newly christened Queen Bee. To her, it was only a means. Influence and power meant nothing to her except in so far as it helped her own vengeful aims. And, even though it was quite a powerful force, the mafia was not going to cut it. Not for the scale of carnage she was looking for. She needed something bigger. Some_one_ with more resources…

* * *

Opal leaned back with a satisfied sigh, looking around at the upper-class restaurant she was sitting in. For the first time in her life Koboi felt she understood the value of elbow grease. She thought that university had been tough and it had; being the only female in the class, she had to be tougher than the others. However, looking back on it, the pixie couldn't help but think of those as easy days. She had used her father's money to go to university and make her own company to drive him out of business. When she had made plans to overthrow the Underground, she had left most of the work to lackeys, halfwits she thought more than capable. She had relied so much on her magic throughout her life that she had forgotten what it was like to be injured.

She looked down at her hands; they were tough with callouses, scarred from a thousand fights. Her arms were taught with muscle honed through suffering. She had earned her scars, earned her power, fought a thousand fights to sit in the Don's chair. She had been stripped bare of her magic and money and that still couldn't stop her. Her chest swelled in pride.

She checked the golden watch at her wrist. She was supposed to be meeting a new business partner here and she was practically shaking with anticipation. She looked at the two glasses of wine across from her. They had been half filled with a special compound that had taken months of experimentation. And several dissected LEP fairies. The serum had been made from glands in the fairy brain that controlled the Mesmer, a combination of fairy pheromones and human spinal fluid. Her "mother" had provided the fluid and the old Don had provided her first test subject; the will proved it had been a success. Now, it was time for the real thing, with the potency increased for good measure.

"Ms. Belinda?" Somebody had walked up to her table, a man and a woman dressed impeccably well. The woman was clad in red, the dress reaching down to the tips of her toes. The man wore a sky-blue Italian suit that matched his eyes.

"Master and Mrs. Fowl." Opal gestured towards the two wine glasses, grinning. "Please have a seat."

* * *

**AN: Just a reminder to readers that this will be the last **_**daily**_** chapter. The chapters will be coming weekly instead, every Monday at 8pm.**

**Thanks again to those of you who stuck around. God bless!**


	6. Old Tricks

**Lower Manhattan Hospital, New York, 1998**

Artemis Fowl had calmed down considerably after his initial shocking entrance to the grimy alleyway. He was lying in a moderately comfortable hospital bed, testing his newly shrunken limbs as much as could be allowed. His left arm was not only broken, but the communicator phone had seared itself into his hand. He had tried to repair his ailments, but his magic was uncooperative. Every time Artemis tried to call forth a spot of healing magic, it seemed to back away from his calling. No matter. He could come up with a plan that didn't use magic. Or at least, didn't use _his_.

Artemis had been in a constant state of meditation since he'd woken up in the hospital nearly an hour before. At first, the meditation was for calming his panicking mind and body. This had taken some time, but now that he was sufficiently relaxed, he had begun work on analyzing the situation. He was stuck in 1998 America. He had regressed in age and his magic didn't work. Those were all bad, but there was good that came with it. Artemis deduced that he didn't need to worry about being snatched out of the time he was currently in. With the demon island of Hybros now taken out of limbo, time was not as volatile as it had been. Artemis could be sure that he wouldn't be removed from 1998 and thus didn't have to worry about a ticking clock while he came up with a plan.

The boy also guessed that Holly must know something about his current predicament. His left eye had been painfully active, bleeding from the socket and buzzing in the pupil. Artemis suspected that Holly would be experiencing something similar with her own eye, and if she was then it was reasonable to assume that his friends would be coming up with a plan to save him. However, that was only a hypothesis and he couldn't sit around and wait based on educated guesswork. He needed to take action.

Artemis opened his eyes, only one of which he could see out of. It seemed that the doctors had put a large patch over his left eye. Possibly to keep it from getting infected. Probably because it was hideous to look at.

Beside Artemis was a table with a bell on it and a sign that said "Ring once awake." Artemis obliged. A few moments later, a nurse came through the door, holding a clipboard and smiling at the young Irish boy.

"Artemis Fowl!" she chirped cheerfully. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a need a newspaper," the boy replied, staring at the nurse to get her reaction.

"We'll see what we can do about that, hun." Artemis was impressed; normally adults would be surprised that a young boy would request a local newspaper. This woman hadn't bat an eye. "Any lingering pain or discomfort?"

"Some," Artemis replied shortly, "but all I really need is the newspaper, to take my mind off it."

The nurse acknowledged him with a vague nod. "We've tried to contact your mother, but she hasn't responded yet. Is there any way we might reach her better?" Artemis gave her the fake email address he'd set up while Angeline Fowl had been under her madness. She had lost her grip on sanity shortly after his father disappeared and since Artemis had only been 9 at the time, he had needed to set up a decoy address to fool prying adults.

The nurse exited the room, making no assurances that she would bring a newspaper. Artemis sighed and reached for the landline phone that sat next to the bell and sign. He mostly remembered the number…

* * *

**Above Dakota Prairie Grasslands, 1998**

Captain Holly Short soaked in the view. From 1000 meters up, the wind whipping through the tall grass looked like waves. A heard of American bison lumbered under her and she could hear the thundering of their hooves.

Holly smiled. She had just gotten done saving those bison from a group of poachers. The LEP had made a recent partnership with the Underground Protection Society for Endangered Animals. This was part of their deal: once a month, an LEP Recon officer was sent to check on a heard of endangered creatures. They'd record their numbers and see whether they were rising or falling. It just so happened that this heard of bison were in danger as well as endangered when Holly arrived.

Holly's earpiece buzzed and she opened the video chat on her visor.

Foaly's voice crackled through the speaker. "Holly, are you all wrapped up with those bison?"

"They're all clear." She kicked her wing thrusters into gear. "I'm heading back now."

"Actually, we've got a situation in the states and you're the only one around to handle it."

"Alright." Holly decided to indulge the centaur. Whatever this situation was it was probably Foaly's paranoia. He was always paranoid about human intelligence agencies discovering the Underground. He'd even gone so far as to wear a tin foil hat at all hours of the day, in case the mudmen could read his thoughts. "What've we got?"

"Sentinel picked up a big one from a hospital in New York." Sentinel was a web of observational software Foaly had installed into several human satellites. It monitored phone lines, scanning for any words relating to the People. If a conversation contained enough key words, an LEP officer was dispatched to investigate, as it could mean there was national security risk. The problem was that with the humans' love of fantasy entertainment growing, it was getting harder to tell what was and wasn't a real threat. Holly had heard of one case where the LEP had been stationed outside a house for a week until it was discovered that it was just two kids discussing a Dungeons and Dragons game.

"How big, exactly, Foaly?" asked Holly, already making a flight path to the nearest shuttle port to Haven City.

"Twenty-eight." Holly froze in midair. The average for keywords was three per call. Twenty-eight in a single correspondence was unprecedented. An audio file slid into Holly's visor.

"Play," she commanded and the file expanded into a bar. A play head moved along the dipping and spiking audio.

"Fairy," Holly heard. The voice was young with a thick Irish accent. "The Ritual, LEP, dwarves, short, time stop, neutrino, centaurs…"

"It goes on and on like that," Foaly cut in. "Never heard anything like it."

Holly frowned. "It's just a string of words?"

"That's not good enough for you? Whoever's on the phone could be writing our biography."

"Could it be a crossword?" Holly suggested, hoping against hope.

Foaly shook his head. "Funny thing was that the call was made to the crossword hotline of the London Times. I've already checked the real answers; none of them are on there."

Holly was nervous. Who could possibly know these words? Could it be an LEP agent trying to get home? Or someone pulling a prank. Holly didn't want to consider the possibility that they'd actually be discovered. 1400 years of solitude gone down the drain.

"Alright." Holly recalibrated her flight path to the coordinates Foaly sent her. "I'll check it out."

* * *

Hours later, Holly was flying above Lower Manhattan. The pollution in the air was so thick she was afraid she might puke. The ground wasn't much better; the streets were filthy with garbage and the water in the sewer system was filthy. Holly spat, hoping that it landed on the head of a littering human. Preferably ruining a new haircut.

Holly finally found the Lower Manhattan Hospital. She hovered just outside the window and activated her shield. The shield was one of the oldest magical defenses in fairy history; it vibrated the body so quickly that it practically made them invisible, aside from a slight, almost indistinguishable shimmer in the air. The problem now was getting inside the building. It was an ancient rule that no fairy could enter an establishment uninvited. How was she supposed to enter undetected without an invitation?

She flew down to the main entrance on the ground just as an ambulance screeched to a halt. Holly had an idea; she flew invisibly toward the paramedics as they were opening the back doors.

"Help me out!" one of them shouted. Holly flew over and took a light hold on to the emergency trolley. A young girl lay there, woozy and with a nasty cut in her forehead. Holly couldn't help feeling pity for the little mudgirl.

"Heal," she whispered, holding the child's arm. Little sparks flew up her arm and the girl began to breathe easier.

Other doctors ran up to the ambulance. "Help us get her inside," the paramedic yelled, to nobody in particular. That was the opening Holly had been hoping for. A general cry for help could be interpreted as an invitation inside. And even when she had finished helping get the girl inside, nobody said she had to leave immediately.

Once she had gotten through the door, offering the slightest push to the girl's cart, she flew up the ten flights of stairs and waited patiently beside Room 1009 for somebody to open the door. No use taking chances that a mudperson might see a door opening and closing by itself.

Eventually, an elderly doctor came through and Holly slipped by his shoulder.

"Hello, Artemis," the doctor said kindly as Holly hovered silently above. So this is who had called, a young boy with an eye missing. Perhaps it was just another false alarm, the ramblings of an excited boy over a game or maybe just playing a prank to confuse the Times staff.

"Hello, Doctor," the boy replied. The voice didn't sound like any she'd ever heard come out of the mouth of a nine-year-old mudboy. It was level, calculated and cool. If she closed her eyes she thought she could imagine a James Bond villain sitting in the hospital bed, rather than a child.

"I assume," the child continued, "that you wish to have a look at my vitals. I can assure you my heart rate is normal, my blood sugar is perfectly healthy and I've yet to display signs of tics or other reactions to trauma. I'm quite alright." The boy, Artemis, sounded as if he wanted the doctor to leave as soon as possible.

"Be that as it may, young man," the doctor replied, sitting down and looking over his charts, "I still need to take a look at you. I wouldn't be doing my job otherwise."

"Please, Doctor…" Artemis paused as he read the nametag on the doctor's white jacket, "… Phillips, can't this wait until I've gotten a few hours of sleep. I'm understandably exhausted and would like to get some rest not involving anesthetics or painkillers dripped through an IV."

Doctor Phillips examined the charts some more. "Alright," he said, smiling. "You can catch a two hour nap. No more than that, though. I still need to run diagnostics as soon as possible."

"Of course," Artemis conceded.

Doctor Phillips left and Holly hovered closer to the ground, just in front of the mudboy's bed. She could see now that the eyepatch wasn't the only ailment on his body. His left arm was broken and the hand was ruined, mangled by some metal contraption Holly couldn't figure out.

The mudboy took his eyes off the door and, if Holly hadn't been shielded, she could've sworn he was looking right at her. He smiled pleasantly.

"Hello, Holly."

Holly flinched and looked at her hands. They were still shielded. Her whole body was still shielded. And yet this mudboy could see her. Worse yet, he knew her name.

"You got here faster than I anticipated," Artemis went on, the definition of nonchalance. "I suppose you must've already been above ground. On a mission for the Underground Protection Society for Endangered Animals. Always thought they had a horrible name, but they do good work. Always been the most active in America. I predict they'll have the bald eagle out of extinction by 2020. Oh, don't just hover there shielded, old friend. I know you're there; I saw you come in. Foaly really should do something about that shimmer."

Holly didn't move. This was a catastrophe. This mudboy knew the names of her and her comrades. He was familiar with LEP protocol and their magic powers. She was on the verge of taking off her helmet and mindwiping this mudboy when he spoke again.

"You don't believe me," he said, matter-of-factly. "I understand. Technically, we won't meet for another two years. However, if I can prove to you that I mean you no harm and hopefully convince you to help me will you take me to Haven?"

Holly's shield dropped at that. "Not on your life, mudboy."

"Just hear me out." Artemis reached under his hospital gown and pulled out a golden coin on the end of a black string. A clean hole had been drilled into the perfect center of the disk.

"You gave this to me," he said. "After I helped you defeat a goblin rebellion. You shot that hole yourself with your Neutrino 2000. To remind me that there is a spark of decency in me."

Holly crept a bit further and eyed the coin carefully. It was fairy currency, one golden drachma. It was engraved with images of centaurs and gnomes, pixies and dwarves. It looked authentic, but how could this boy have gotten it?

"You said I gave this to you," Holly said, still tense and ready to fly if this turned out to be a trap. "I don't remember that. In fact, I don't even remember you."

Artemis sighed, condescendingly. "As I said, we won't meet for another few years. I'm from the future and I'm stuck in this time. You give this to me about three years from now."

"Oh, dwarf gas," Holly spat. "If you were a time traveler you would've disappeared by now."

"Ahh, yes." Artemis slipped the golden coin back under his gown. "Hybras hasn't been taken out yet. Demons will still be appearing and reappearing. However, in my future, Hybras has been removed as a component in the time stream. And since I am from a time when Hybras has been eliminated, I believe my molecules will stay right where they are."

Holly wasn't convinced at all. This mudboy was obviously making it all up, coming up with some excuse as to why she should trust him. She should wipe the boy's mind clean, leave him a few IQ points short and never think about him again. And yet there was something that drew her to trust him, some insane part of her mind that looked at the boy and believed every word he said. And it was this part of her brain that drew out her next question.

"What happened to your eye?"

"Another long story," Artemis replied, patting at the overly large patch. "In the midst of one of our adventures, you and I ended up together in the time stream. Time, of course, is incredibly temperamental, breaking down the bodies that pass through and putting them back together. This being a volatile process, at times not everything is where it should be."

Artemis dramatically lifted up his eyepatch and Holly nearly gagged. His left eye was bulging, so big that the lid didn't even fully close around it.

"Don't look away, Holly," Artemis insisted even as Holly was doing exactly that. "You need to study it carefully; just try not to vomit."

Holly slowly turned back and studied the eye. Aside from the fact that it was grotesquely large, she couldn't see anything abnormal about it. It seemed perfectly healthy. Her eyes flicked to and fro between the mudboy's eyes and finally saw it; the iris on the left was hazel. The one of the right blue.

Comprehension must've shone in Holly's face because Artemis nodded. "You have one of mine," he said. "In the future." He lowered the eyepatch back down.

"I need your help, Holly. If you take me to Commander Root right now, I'll explain everything and plead my case. If he doesn't believe me, you can drop me in the middle of Africa, mindwiped and living out my days productively. I won't put up a fight."

Holly's mind raced. If the mudboy was telling the truth and he was in need of help, how could she say no. If the mudboy was lying, then she could be leading him right to the heart of their world. He could spring a trap or escape and return to the surface with word of their existence.

"Darvit." Holly swore and put her helmet on her head. "Did you catch all that, Foaly."

"Did I ever," the centaur whinnied nervously. "I don't like this, Holly. I looked up the records of that place. This is Artemis Fowl II, heir to a legacy of criminal activity. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree in this family."

"So I should just wipe him now?" Holly whispered into her visor, turning around to look again at the Irish boy. Artemis was sitting placidly, his hands folded on his lap.

"Well, no," Foaly replied through gritted teeth. "Because the worst part is he's probably telling the truth."

Holly frowned at that. "Explain."

"I just did a global security scan for the kid. If he showed up on any security camera in the last day anywhere on the planet we get a hit."

"Get on with it," Holly demanded, tapping her foot anxiously.

Foaly let out a snort. "Alright fine, you want the short version. Artemis Fowl was seen coming in through the doors of Lower Manhattan Hospital. He was also seen browsing for suits in an Irish mall one hour later."

Holly wanted to groan and gasp at the same time. "I'll have to bring him in, won't I?"

"We've gotta study him further," Foaly confirmed. "See if he's telling the truth. So yeah."

Holly looked back at Artemis, who was grinning wolfishly. A strangely terrifying expression on the face of a nine-year-old. He seemed to have deduced what had happened.

The commander is not going to like this, she thought.


	7. New Problems

**LEP Headquarters, Underground, 1998**

"Dwarf gas!" Commander Root shouted from under a cloud of fungal cigar smoke. His face was beat red, hence the secret nickname among his officers, "Beat" Root. There was a bet in the LEP on when his heart would finally burst.

Holly stood rooted to attention before the commander's desk. She had just gotten through explaining everything Artemis had told her and what Foaly had found through security cameras.

"You did NOT just bring a mudboy underground on his word and a hunch!" Root chewed aggressively on the butt of his cigar. "Do you realize, Captain, that you are risking the entire safety of our race? Our civilization? All on circumstantial information?! Provided by a human?!"

Holly shifted a little. It seemed dumb now that the commander was shouting at her. Root was a former recon officer and had more decades under his belt than any other officer in the history of the job. His word had weight; when he called you stupid, it was more than likely that you were.

"And Foaly's findings," she added, not wanting to discredit herself entirely.

"Foaly's findings mean as much to me as a math problem means to a goblin," Root retorted. "He's prone to conspiracy and his tech hasn't exactly been reliable these past few years."

Holly wanted to protest, but didn't. Sure, in the last decade or so Foaly had had his share of mistakes, but then what piece of technology didn't have its downsides? Sure, the Neutrino 1500 had a habit of jamming and the maps of the Ireland coast hadn't been updated in more than a century. It was still good equipment and Foaly was no slouch with research.

"As soon as the psych boys are done in there I want you to wipe his memories and take him back topside," Root commanded. "I never wanna see that mudboy's face again, understand?"

Holly nodded just as the door to the commander's office flew open. The LEP psychologists were stumbling over themselves to get through the door.

"Ahh, speak of the demons." Root took another pull on his cigar and turned his attention to his paperwork. "Well, Short, you know what to do."

Holly was just about to salute and leave before the psychologists fell into the room.

"He's not lying!" exclaimed Dr. Headfast, his eyes bulging.

Holly stood still and the commander choked on his smoke.

"What?!" he roared around harsh coughs.

"It's true!" Dr. Bartlebee agreed. "What he says is all true. Or at least he believes it's all true. There's no trace of a lie."

Root's scowl deepened until it looked like his face would be swallowed up by his brow. He tapped a button on his desk.

"Foaly," he said, through gritted teeth. "Get in here. Now."

The centaur arrived a minute later.

"Do you believe this kid's story, Foaly?" Root demanded. "Does what we know about time travel match up with what this kid is saying?"

Foaly frowned, scratching his chin. "Not quite, but there is precedent for it."

That was not the answer the commander wanted. "Yes or no, Foaly?"

Foaly shrugged. "It's not that simple, Commander. We're dealing with a case of time travel that doesn't use Hybras as a focal point. And seeing as how the model using Hybras is the only one we have…"

"So it's impossible," the commander interrupted. "Great. Wipe his memories and get him out of here."

"Not impossible, Commander," Foaly corrected. "Just… undocumented. Unresearched. We don't know if it is possible and we can't risk the possibility that it isn't."

Root felt like slamming his desk. The centaur was going to make things difficult for him? Fine.

"I'll talk to him myself."

* * *

Artemis had been at the mercy of the psychologists for nearly three hours. It had been deathly boring and a waste of everybody's time. He had asked for Commander Root, but he was refused. Instead, he had been issued a long list of dull questions; he had answered all of them honestly, though he had a feeling they wouldn't be believed.

The door to the interrogation room opened and Commander Root stepped through, his cigar nearly burned down to the mouth. Seeing his old friend was harder than Artemis had thought it would be. The Julius Root he knew was dead, murdered in cold blood by the psychotic pixie, Opal Koboi. It took everything in Artemis to keep himself seated and silent, to not jump up and shake the old commander's hand or clasp him on the shoulder. He couldn't afford to act strangely. Or let anything slip.

The commander sat in the chair opposite the silent Irish mudboy. The single blue eye started at him sharply and Root got the feeling that it was dissecting him.

"Artemis Fowl." Root spit out his cigar and went for another one.

"No smoking, Commander, please," Artemis said coolly. "I am, after all, only nine years old. I wouldn't want to damage the development of my lungs through secondhand smoking."

Root lit the cigar anyway.

"From what I've heard, you've been spinning stories to my officers, Fowl." Root stared at the mudboy under a hard brow. "Saying how you're from the future. That you know us, that we're friends, even. I find that a little hard to believe on every front, but you've managed to convince my top recon officer, the two idiots who work as our therapists and my chief techie. What'd you tell them, huh? What did you show them that got them on your side so easily?"

Artemis thought. What example could he give that the commander would possibly believe? He could hand wave almost every piece of evidence, including the oversized eye. He couldn't tell him anything about the future because it hadn't happened yet. For all Root knew, Artemis could be spinning him a story even though it was the truth. He couldn't tell the commander something he already knew, because it was just as likely that Artemis could've hacked into LEP files and found it out. Then it hit him.

"Commander, may I approach you?"

Root glared at him, silent.

"Very well." Artemis sighed and stretched his hand slowly across the table. "I need you to place your hand on mine. Just a finger on the top of my knuckle would do nicely."

The commander eyed the mudboy's pale hand, suspicion lining his every feature. Artemis held up his other hand, trapped in a cast and marred by the burnt ring's molten metal.

"What could I possibly do to you commander? I am holding out my only good hand. Unless you believe I'm lying about my injury as well."

Root took a drag on his cigar. "Alright, Fowl, I'll play your little game. Just know that if anything remotely hostile happens, the guards at the door will be here before you can cry for mommy. Got me?"

Artemis nodded. Root lay a finger on the boy's hand.

"Excellent." Artemis nodded. "Now, I need you to inject a tiny spark of magic into my hand."

"Why?" Root was on the verge of pulling his finger away.

"You need to trust me."

Root laughed. "I trust you about as far as I can throw you Fowl."

"I see no harm in giving a small jolt of magic," Artemis reasoned. "I can't steal it from you and it need not be a bit of healing magic. It could just be a jolt of energy or vibration."

Root still didn't trust the mudboy, but he saw what he meant. No harm could come from giving him a jolt. The commander concentrated and sent a small needle of magic through his arm and to the tip of his finger. As soon as the magic reached the mudboy's hand, Root felt a bubbling, though not in the literal sense. He could feel dormant magic emanating from this boy, a whole sea of power laying flat inside Artemis Fowl. His own magic had just brought it back to life, like a stove bringing a pot of water to boil.

Root quickly pulled away his hand and gazed at the boy with a newfound fear.

"You… you're magic…" he stammered. "How in the hell are you magic?!"

"A long story," Artemis replied, "Involving time travel and the organic flow of energy. However, I believe there are more important matters than that."

"All you've proven to me, Fowl, is that you're more dangerous than we first thought." Root turned to go. "I'm setting up your mindwipe and deportation immediately."

"Julius." Root stopped; only his closest friends called the commander by his first name. "Please, I need your help. If I can't get back to my own time, there will be dire consequences. For me and everyone else."

Root looked back at the boy and saw a frightened, nine-year-old face looking back at him.

Darvit, Root thought as he closed the door and turned back to the human.

"Talk fast, Fowl." The commander sat back in the chair. "And make it simple."

"Right," Artemis began. "I believe this all started because I attempted to perform the Ritual."

"You what?!"

"Please, commander, don't interrupt. Yes, the Ritual. I thought I could rejuvenate the magic I had gotten in the time stream. Unfortunately, all it seemed to do is reactivate the time energy left over from one of my previous adventures. Now, I am in 1998, stuck here, by all accounts."

"Skip to the part where this has consequences for us," the commander barked.

"Yes, right, well, the problem is that there are now two Artemis Fowls in the same timeline. If no attempt is made to correct that issue, time will attempt to correct that itself. Time will do everything in its power to eliminate either of us. However, which is the real Artemis is difficult for it to tell. It could eliminate me, setting everything on a corrective course. Or, it could destroy the Artemis who is currently in Ireland. This would mean that I was never here, that the next eight years of my life will never happen and that we will never meet. It would be a disaster, likely causing a malfunction in the timeline. For you see, it would be met with a paradox; if that Artemis doesn't exist, then how could I get here? And if I'm not here, why would it have the motivation to kill one of us?"

Root blinked. "That doesn't quite make sense. You make it sound like time is a living thing"

"It is, in a way," Artemis replied. " It is a lot like us in a way; constantly changing in some aspects and remaining permanent in others. Ask Foaly, if you don't believe me."

Root wasn't sure what to believe anymore. "Okay, so," he began, rubbing his eyes, "hypothetically, we help you get back home. What happens then? How are we supposed to make sure everything ends up the same by the time we meet?"

"Simple," the boy replied. "You would need to perform a mindwipe. You would need to purge all images of me from the past of all the key players. That would be you, Foaly and Holly."

"That's Captain Short to you!" Root spat.

"Right, of course," Artemis conceded, holding up his hands. "Do we have a deal?"

Root scratched his jaw. "This would mean crossing a lot of red tape, Fowl. Working with humans is a big no-no, even in extreme situations."

"Even the end of the world?"

Root didn't like this, not one bit. Yet he found himself stretching out his hand towards the boy anyway. Artemis gripped it.

"Deal," Root grunted. "But after this, you're out of my hair."

"Agreed." Artemis sighed.

"What is it?" Root asked, still suspicious.

"Nothing, I…" Artemis trailed off. "I just wish our meeting could've been under… more friendly circumstances. I've… missed you, Commander."

They sat in silence for a bit before Root spoke.

"We don't get to choose our circumstances, Fowl. We just gotta work with them."

"Right, of course," Artemis said, trying to fight down a lump in his throat. "Let's get to work."

He made to get up when his knees buckled underneath him. His head was swimming and his breath came out in sharp pants.

"Fowl?" Root bent down beside him. "Fowl, what's wrong?"

Artemis felt like his head was splitting open. Memories flashed before his eyes, faded, and then seemed to slam back into focus. He could feel the dormant magic rushing inside him. It was chaotic, pulling and pushing him this way and that, building up and bursting like a sea of molten lava. It felt like his insides were being ripped apart and then being put back together by force. The ends of the split bone in his left arm ground painfully against each other. The hand was so hot it felt like the flesh would fall off. Artemis screamed and fell to the ground. He then continued screaming, even as the commander called for a medic fairy.

Artemis began to lose consciousness, his brain shutting down against the all-encompassing pain. The magic began to bubble back down, once again settling into a smooth, stagnant bog of energy.

"Less..." Artemis murmured as a medic looked over him. "There's less..."

* * *

**AN: We've come to the end of the chapters that I made ahead of time. I'm now working with the loosest outline of a plot idea. I guess I shouldn't worry too much; this is for fun, after all.**

**Once again, thank you all so much for reading and God's blessings on your week.**


	8. The Vengeance of Opal Koboi

**Fowl Manor, 2005**

The Fowl Estate was encased in a blanket of tension. Not a single breeze dared disturb the heavy silence. Even the critters in the woods that bordered the house seemed to know that their usually charming chatter wouldn't be welcome that evening. The only sound that could be heard either within or without the building was the heavy footfalls of Juliet Butler as she paced frantically on the Persian rug in the Fowl's living room. The elder Butler sat in an armchair by the fireplace, quiet as the grave, polishing the dismantled pieces of his custom Beretta M-9. The bodyguard had learned long ago how to turn his nerves into productivity; Juliet released her stress by suplexing people, but since the only other person in the room was her brother, she wore out the rug with her pacing.

The Butler siblings were waiting on further contact from Holly, after she had sent them both texts and voice messages saying that Artemis was hurtling through time and that they should meet her here. That had been almost eight hours ago and they still hadn't heard any updates from Captain Short. They had contact Foaly in Police Plaza; he hadn't heard from her either. Holly had disappeared off the face of the map. And so the Butlers could do nothing but wait impatiently, trying to hold back their hysteria, guarding the Fowl family mansion as had always been their family duty for generations.

The siblings jumped at the sound the brass knocker on the front door. Juliet sprinted to the front hall, rolling the edge of the carpet as she launched herself. Butler remained seated; it would do him no good to strain his old bones with something so spontaneous. Besides, he would find out who it was soon enough. He heard Juliet open the door, the sounds of voices and then the door shut, the knocker clanging with the impact. Juliet came back into the living room, leading in Minerva Paradiso and gesturing for her to take a seat in the armchair beside Butler. Minerva looked the worse for wear; her blonde hair was unwashed, she hadn't put on fresh makeup and she had dark bags under her eyes from lack of sleep. She clutched a laptop to her chest and slid slowly into the armchair beside Butler, flipping open her computer and starting to type. She did all this very deliberately, as if she were trying to hold herself together lest she might snap.

"Holly bring you here?" asked the bodyguard, beginning to resemble his handgun. Minerva nodded silently, her intense gaze focused squarely on her computer screen.

"Did she say anything?" Juliet pressed. "We haven't heard anything for hours. She was all 'Artemis is in danger' and then nothin! Zilch! Zip!"

Minerva looked up from her laptop, her wide eyes shaking slightly in their sockets. "She has a plan," she said, her voice crackly, as if she hadn't spoken in a while.

The Butlers perked up, leaning in, waiting for Minerva to explain. Minerva just stared at them and Butler snapped his fingers under her nose. The young French girl blinked and seemed to come back to the room.

"Je suis désolé," she said, shaking her head. "Er, I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"You said Holly had a plan," Butler prompted, as Juliet frowned and left for the kitchen to make the poor girl a mug of lavender tea.

"Oui, yes. A plan." Minerva opened a window on her laptop that displayed a funnel model that Butler couldn't make sense of.

"This is a time model," Minerva explained. "It's to simulate the flow and shape of time."

Butler nodded, following so far.

"Holly's plan is to open up the time stream and bring Artemis back that way," she went on. The faint ding of the microwave could be heard from the kitchen.

"Okay..." Butler said, cocking an eyebrow. "How does she plan on doing that?"

"She wants to use one fo the warlocks," replied Minerva. "She said that she knows where... _when_ Artemis is. Said something about her eye... I can't remember." She rubbed her face in her hands, letting out an exhausted sigh. Juliet walked back into the sitting room, gingerly slipping a mug of boiling hot tea into her hands. She took the computer out of the girl's lap and tilted the mug to her lips, prompting her to take a sip.

"Merci," she said, taking another sip. Butler rose and put a giant hand on Minerva's shoulder.

"Juliet," he said, "keep guard here. I'm going to put Minerva down for a night cap." Minerva's head jerked up from where it had fallen onto her chest.

"Non, non!" she cried, switching completely to her native tongue. "Je dois être là pour Holly. Si quelque chose tourne mal-"

"Je vais vous réveiller quand elle arrive ici," assured Butler, who was himself fluent in several different languages. "Tu as besoin de dormir ou tu vas t'effondrer."

Minerva agreed sleepily as the bodyguard lifted her gingerly from her seat and led her up the ornate staircase to one of the guest rooms. Juliet continued her pacing, the carpet losing color under her footsteps.

_Whack whack whack!_ The door knocker struck once more and Juliet once again scrambled to the entrance hall. She threw open the door and there stood, at long last, Captain Holly Short, a small warlock hiding in her shadow.

"Well, well," tolled Juliet, a scowl etched into her features. "Look who finally decided to turn up."

"I know," Holly said shortly. "I'm sorry. I'll apologize as many times as it takes. I'll bake you a cake if I have to, just please let us in." She kept looking behind her, around her, as if she'd been chased all the way from Haven City. Juliet stepped aside and let the elf and warlock scramble into the entrance hall. Now that she could see them properly, the two fairies were an absolute mess. They were covered in dirt from head to toe which, despite literally living underground, was rare for the normally clean Holly. What's more, Holly's LEP gear was haphazardly slapped on, her helmet skewered, one of the straps on her wing pack undone and her belt missing half its equipment. The warlock, Juliet couldn't tell which as she had never met either, had absolutely no clothes on, exposing his stubby tail and the runes that covered the entirety of his form.

"Where's Minerva?" Holly asked, adjusting her helmet so that it sat straight on her head.

"She was exhausted," said Juliet, walking back to the sitting room. "Butler put her down for a nap. She looked like she was awake all night."

Holly looked guilty as she buckled her wing pack more firmly onto her back. "That's fine. She told me enough; this'll totally work. We can let her sleep."

"Yeah, two things," Juliet said, crossly, lounging on the sofa. "One: what exactly is the plan? And two: what the heck happened to you two?"

"Let's just say," the warlock piped up, his voice high and anxious, "that she's going to need a very good lawyer once we get back to Haven."

Juliet cocked an eyebrow and Holly cringed.

"Not my finest hour, I must admit." She took her helmet off and placed it on the coffee table. "Thing's could've gone a lot smoother with this plan."

"Again," Juliet interrupted testily, "what's this plan?"

"Yes," said Butler from behind the two fairies, causing them to jump. "Good question." Despite the look of tired annoyance on his face, Holly couldn't help but smile when she saw the old bodyguard.

"Hello, Butler," she said. "Been awhile."

"Indeed," he replied. "Too long." Holly caught the double meaning and slumped into a chair.

"I'm sorry," she said again, rubbing her face in her hands. "I panicked. I didn't know what to do, so I called you. And then I had to do some things underground and... well, in all the confusion I forgot to call you back. I'm sorry." The Butlers just looked at her, expressions blank. She wasn't sure if they were forgiving or unyielding.

"I forgive you!" chirped No. 1, poking his head out from behind Butler. "I don't mind helping Artemis, really. I don't mind that you broke me out of Police Plaza."

Butler's eyebrows shot up. "So, this is your non-panicky plan, is it Holly?"

Holly glared at him. "What was I supposed to do? I was under-grounded, no topside trips permitted. And the warlocks were being put under lockdown."

"Could've had Smelly do it," said Juliet. Holly shook her head.

"Mulch got caught getting my equipment," she admitted. Another nugget of shame to add to the pile. When you mess up, Short, you mess up big. "I had to get No. 1 out of there myself and I'm gonna have to face a trial when I get back."

"But this will get Artemis back, right?" Butler looked at her with pleading eyes. Eyes that didn't want the last seven hours he'd spent awake in anxiety to be for nothing. Holly nodded.

"Yes." Her voice was filled with absolute certainty for the first time in the last eight hours. "It'll work. No. 1, start up the portal."

"You still haven't told us what 'this' is!" Juliet was having difficulty controlling her volume as the warlock shoved the coffee table off the rug with a heaving grunt.

"We're going to use No. 1 to open the time stream and drag Artemis back here to us," Holly explained, pulling out a folded piece of paper and handing it to Butler. The bodyguard opened it and read "1998 -Artemis" in his young charge's immaculate handwriting. "We know when he is, which gives No. 1 all he needs to open the portal correctly. Now, all we need is an anchor to drag him here. And that anchor is me." She explained to them about her connection to Artemis' eye.

"If we can keep me here in this time using silver," she explained, holding up her left hand with a silver hand wrapped around the wrist, "then the rest of his body will be dragged towards his eye and my eye dragged towards me."

The Butlers looked as if their heads were swimming. This kind of theoretical physics would be difficult enough for them to comprehend on a good day, but in the middle of the night, after hours without sleep, it was all they could do to comprehend the words coming out of her mouth, never mind how what she was talking about worked.

"Just trust me," Holly said, turning back to No. 1, who sat cross-legged on the cleared rug and was chanting in Gnomish. The runes on his body burned with a kaleidoscope of burning colors, casting them on the wall like spotlights.

"He's gone into his trance," Holly mused. "Good. The time door should be here any second. You both might want to stand back; we wouldn't want you being sucked in by mistake."

"I'll get Minerva," said Butler. "She wanted to be woken up when you got here."

"No," Holly sighed. "Let her sleep. I'm the one who made her run all those simulations for me. She just wanted to be around if something went wrong, but from what she's told me it sounds it'll be fine."

Famous last words, thought Butler, but Holly looked so guilty that he relented, stepping a few feet back from where No. 1 sat.

"You know, you really pissed me off fairy girl," Juliet said into the silence. Holly's ears drooped. "You had me get on a 10 hour flight scared out of my mind. I'm missing my next match. And you had us sitting in this living room tense as a sinner in mass. All for nothin. You didn't even need us."

Holly nodded. "I know. I'm sorry. I just-"

"Panicked," Juliet finished, nodding, her expression softening. "I get it. I can't say I wouldn't have been flailing either."

"I'll make it up to you," Holly promised.

"Damn right you will," Juliet said, grinning. "You're giving me a video copy of that dwarf wrestling match you told me about that one time. That'll about make us even."

Holly grinned back. "Deal." Holly looked up at the bodyguard. "Anything to get off _your_ chest, Butler?"

"I can forgive you for a scare, Holly," he replied. "All I ask is that you not do it again. There's a shortage of good, reasonable people in this world. Please don't lose your head."

Holly smiled and finally let the tension seep out of her shoulders. "Don't worry, old friend. I don't plan on making this a habit."

Suddenly, Juliet gasped and pointed over to wear No. 1 was sitting. Holly whipped around and found the warlock floating a foot off the ground, his runes steaming and his chanting sounded as if he had a thousand other voices.

"Don't worry," Holly told the humans. "This is totally normal... theoretically."

_CRACK!_

A whole in reality ripped open before the floating form of No. 1, a dark vortex of nothing that crackled with arcane energy and great rumbling noise like she was inside a thunder cloud. Holly could feel it tugging at her, but the silver on her wrist anchored her to this time. Still, she grimaced at the painful tug she could feel on her eye as it loosened dangerously in the socket. She tried moving her arm to cover her eyes, but she felt resistance, like it was being pushed back down. Holly dropped her arm back to her side, not wanting to risk somehow interfering with the process.

She felt the grip on her change slightly; it was less like the vortex was pulling her in and more like something was latching on to her to be pulled out.

"I think it's working," Holly yelled over the noise.

"Oh, good," called another, chillingly familiar voice, somehow smooth as silk over the chaotic racket. "That means this will be easy."

Holly felt a chill of horror run up her spine. It couldn't be. She had been flailing, grasping at straws like Foaly said. There's no way the pixie could've still been alive.

A short, slender figure in an elegant green dress sauntered catlike into her line of sight. Two ice-blue eyes pierced her above a mocking, sharp-toothed grin. Opal Koboi was smiling right in her face.

Holly reflexively tried to grab for her, intent on strangling the pixie with her bare hands. Her arms stayed where they were.

"Awww, what's the matter little fairy?" Koboi asked in a mocking, sing-song voice. "Are you caught in the iron grip of time? Well, don't worry," she assured her, her bright white teeth flashing dangerously. "I'm going to let you go. I'm going to let you fly into the arms of time, let it take you wherever it wants." She ran her fingers teasingly along the silver band and Holly's heart beat painfully fast against her ribs.

"But first," Opal purred, taking her hands off the band, "I'm going to show you just how badly I've beaten you." She clapped her hands and a pair of humans carrying shotguns came to stand on either side of her. Holly looked up and would've gasped in horror had she been able to work her jaw. Mr. and Mrs. Fowl stood to attention on either side of Opal Koboi, a dead, far-off look in their eyes. Their shotguns were pointed somewhere over Holly's head, presumably at the Butlers, keeping them at bay.

"It's amazing what you can do with a bit of fairy hormone and some human spinal fluid," Opal commented, looking up at her new slaves lovingly. "It's such a delicious revenge, don't you think? I have Artemis' parents under my thumb. And as soon as I find Artemis, I will show him. And as he watches in horror, I will make his father shoot him between the eyes. Then, I'll break them out of the trance, just to have them see what they've done. And then I'll kill them too!" Koboi squealed giddily, as if she were planning a surprise party for a beloved friend. It made Holly sick to her stomach.

"The Underground will be next, of course," continued Koboi. "With the control I've gained over Fowl Industries, I'll have the funds and resources I need to launch a full scale assault. No creative schemes this time I'm afraid." She sounded almost sorry. "It didn't work the last two times, so I figured brute force was a more stable route. So many less mitigating factors. Don't you agree?"

Holly said nothing. Neither, as far as she could tell, did either of the Butlers.

"Anyway," Opal sighed, "it was lovely to see you again before you're lost to the waves of time and space, Captain Short, but I believe it's time for you to be going."

With that, Koboi ripped the silver band off Holly's arm and she felt herself be carried, sucked, into the vast empty portal.

* * *

**AN: This is an update of the chapter originally posted because something weird happened with the formatting.**


	9. New Arrival

Artemis awoke feeling oddly refreshed. He felt like he could run a mile, if he even pushed himself enough to do any cardio vascular exercise. Perhaps I should, he thought, once I get back to my own time.

"Ahh, he's awake," said a familiar voice. "Don't worry if it takes a moment for your vision to come back. After the healing you had it'll take a while for automatic functions to come back online."

The blackness around Artemis began to clear away, like an iris transition in a film. He was lying flat on his back, looking up at a ceiling of solid rock. He heard the beeping and wiring of machines off to his left and turned to see Foaly standing in front of an elevated computer monitor.

"I'm assuming something quite drastic happened," Artemis said, sitting up, noticing for the first time the EEG sensors sticking to his head.

The centaur looked away from his monitor. "That's an understatement, mudboy. Your entire brain was nearly fried. If you didn't have a full tank of magic in you, you would've been gone."

"You mean I healed myself?"

The centaur nodded. "Went into a coma doing it, too. You were thrashing. Nearly bit the ear off the med warlock who was carrying you. Still, it's nice that your eye isn't nearly falling out."

Artemis reached his hand to his left eye. It was normal sized and his left hand was completely healed. Even the metal that had melted into his flesh had been taken off somehow.

"Indeed," he said, flexing the fingers on his left hand. He tried to call a shower of sparks, but nothing appeared in his palm. So, even though it wasn't responding to his will, the magic was still active. Perhaps in reaction to injury. How could that be, when it didn't heal his wounds upon arrival in New York?

"Foaly," Artemis asked, "when you said my brain nearly fried…?"

"Well, to put it simply, you had the biggest headache I've ever seen. You fluctuated between optimal activity and brain dead multiple times over the course of an hour. You're lucky brain fluid didn't start leaking out of your ears. And even now… well, I don't know if you understand EEG, but-"

"I happen to know fifty modern medical textbooks front to back," Artemis assured him. "I think I can understand a simple EEG chart."

The centaur shrugged and turned the monitor around to face Artemis, who immediately saw what Foaly meant. The lines of brain activity were unusual; the jagged mountains and valleys of his brainwaves were packed tightly together and fluctuating at rapid speed. And if Artemis wasn't mistaken…

"Foaly, is there some way you can bring that monitor down so I can look at it? Perhaps, you can detach it?"

The centaur did so, handing the screen to the mudboy with an appraising look. "Not many fairies who'd think of that, Fowl. I'm mildly impressed."

"Don't be," Artemis replied, squinting at the screen. "I know you Foaly, remember? I know how your mind works." Foaly nervously adjusted his tin foil hat. He didn't entirely trust this mudboy, even with the evidence that said he was telling the truth. The Fowls were a slippery family who had dodged the law for generations. And this one was a genius, possibly the greatest mind of his generation. He didn't put it past him to spy on the Underground, even if he was only nine.

Artemis was still dutifully scanning the screen, oblivious to the discomfort he had caused in the centaur. He had his face so close to the monitor that his nose was nearly touching the screen.

"Careful with that," Foaly whined. "I don't want your mudman juices all over it."

Artemis rolled his eyes dramatically and pulled his face away. He'd found what he'd been looking for anyway. In every EEG section, barely distinguishable behind the prominent jagged line, was a second set of dips and rises running just off center to the first.

Artemis aksed, "What do you make of that?" Foaly clopped his way behind him and peered over the mudboy's shoulder. Artemis pointed to the nearly invisible set of second lines.

"Fascinating," the centaur mutter and Artemis nodded. "It looks like there are two sets of brainwaves inside your head."

Artemis nodded and the EEG graph spiked as his brain began formulating ideas. What could cause such a strange phenomenon? Artemis had extensive knowledge of the Underground ecosystem. There were no parasites he knew of that could tunnel inside the brain. And even if there were, surely he would've caught them before now, for how many times he had visited Haven city. Mind manipulation _was_ a weapon in the Fairies' arsenal of magic, but not to this extent. He didn't think that the Mesmer could allow the user _inside_ the mind of the victim.

Alright, he thought, rubbing his temples. If the Fairy world has been eliminated, then think about the human world. Get out of the world of magic. Think biology, psychology. The connection between the brain and the mind was one of mutual effect. The brain physically changed over time. And with that physical change comes a change in everything; emotion, thought process, intelligence, impulse control, memory. Had he suffered brain damage as well in his trip through time? Was that causing these headaches?

"Uh, kid." Artemis opened his eyes and found Foaly staring down at him. "You alright?"

"Yes," the boy replied. "Apologies, Foaly. I was just thinking."

"About what?"

Artemis didn't answer. He had just noticed that in his contemplation he had been biting the nail of his thumb. He frowned at the chewed cuticle; he thought he'd kicked that habit years ago. Had he started it again without noticing? Possibly, but it had felt so natural to do it, like he was nine years old aga-

Artemis felt the revelation hit him like a troll's fist. How could he have missed it? It was such an obvious factor: he _was _nine years old again. That meant a brain completely unshaped by his experiences with the Fairies, the disappearance of his father, the friendships he had made through adventure and peril. Even the hormonal effects of puberty had not yet left their mark on the young genius. His _mind_, however, had every single one of those experiences recorded. And he had brought them with him into a brain that wasn't adjusted. And the brain was fighting back.

"Uh, Fowl?" Artemis was pulled out of his thoughts once again by Foaly, whose tail swished nervously. "Is something wrong?"

"I think I might be losing my mind," Artemis replied, on the verge of panic. "Literally."

Foaly raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"

"My brain… this brain…" Artemis tapped his head in a daze. "It doesn't have the same experience as my mind…"

Foaly cocked his head, frowning. "So?"

"The brain cannot take memories it hasn't made…" Artemis seemed to have lost his ability to form coherent sentences. "It's… fighting them."

"So, wait…" Foaly pinched the bridge of his nose and nickered heavily. "Your mind brought memories from the future… that your nine-year-old brain doesn't have yet. And you think your brain is trying to get rid of them because it can't _physically_ handle them."

Artemis nodded. "And that's why… the magic… it's keeping my mind together."

"But when it runs out," Foaly continued, "you're out of luck. You'll be a version of your nine-year-old self?"

Artemis nodded. Foaly pawed the floor and let out a nervous whinny.

"Darvit," he swore. "First the time stream might explode and now you might lose your entire identity forever. Great. Anything else you care to drop on us? Maybe Freddo bars will be erased from history or we'll be dropped into some alternate universe where the People are enslaved?"

Through the haze of panic Artemis felt a worm of guilt wriggling in his gut. In reality, he had made up the world-ending stakes on the spot. The Fairies had no reason to trust him and probably wouldn't have helped him anyway if he hadn't made it relevant to them. An end to all of space and time seemed an appropriate motivator compared to the actual stakes of him just being stuck here forever. Now, where there had been ample time to formulate and execute a plan, there was a countdown. How long could he last until his magic ran out?

WHOOM! A deafening clap broke through the room. Artemis reflexively covered his ears, Foaly reared on his hind legs and two pixies wielding firearms ran rushed into the room. All four of them froze, waiting, willing reality to provide an explanation for just what had caused that noise.

One of the pixies eyed Artemis suspiciously.

"It wasn't him, you idiot," Foaly snapped. "You think a human kid could've made that noise?"

WHOOM! Another mighty clap. A huge blackness appeared in the room, like a hole in reality. Artemis' eye was hit with a stab of pain and he could feel it pushing against his socket, like it was trying to jump out. He could feel it pushing against his eye lid and a sucking sound filled his head. The Fairies were panicking. Foaly was typing furiously at his keyboard, trying to get a scan on the anomaly. One of the pixies had fled from the room while the other stood there with his knees knocking and his pants wet.

Artemis kept his hands clamped over his left eye, even when he felt blood pouring from the socket. He pulled back from the great blackness, his eye protesting with more pain and a stronger attempt to free itself from his socket.

Suddenly, his right eye, his blue eye, began to scream in pain as well. It too felt like it was being pulled, as it pressed itself against his eyelid and threatened to pop out of his skull. Artemis pushed against both his eyelids, feeling them both bleed and push against his hands.

Then, finally, it stopped. The pain ceased and his eyes slowly readjusted themselves, settling gently into their sockets. Artemis took his shaking hands off his eyelids and opened them slowly. The blackness had gone and laying on the ground at the foot of his bed was the crumpled form of a familiar fairy.

"Holly!" Artemis shouted, neglecting the EEG probes still attached to his head. They caught and he fell on his back. He heard the sound of a computer hitting the ground and Foaly swearing. He would have to make it up to the centaur later. He ripped the probes off and half ran, half stumbled over to the body of his old friend. She was not in an ideal state; her leg was bent at an awkward angle and trails of blood led from both of her closed eyes.

Artemis took ahold of her wrist, checking for a pulse. It was weak, but there. Artemis sighed with relief as green sparks began moving across Holly's body. Her magic was targeting the areas that needed the most help, knitting together broken bones and sealing popped blood vessels. Her eyes fluttered open and Artemis could feel what was left of his tension slip away and be replaced by a myriad of questions.

"How did you get here?" The questions spilled from his mouth as Holly sat up, grunting and moaning from aches and pains. "You must've used one of the warlocks, but how did you plan on getting back? Did you even mean to come? What-"

SMACK! Holly's palm stung Artemis in the cheek so hard that he fell to the floor. Artemis barely had time to be confused before he was pulled off the floor and into a hug.

"Right," Holly said, pulling away from the boy and taking him by the shoulders. "Now that I've punished you for lying to me and have made certain you're alive, we need to move. Opal Koboi is back."

Artemis blinked. "Koboi?" Was it possible? They never did find her body…

"Yes, Artemis, Koboi!" Holly's voice was nearly shrill. "Gods, I thought you were supposed to be smart! Try to keep up!"

"Opal Koboi?" Holly whipped around and Artemis started. He nearly forgot Foaly was still in the room. He was staring at the two of them as if he couldn't believe they were there. "As in, Koboi Laboratories, Opal Koboi?"

"I'll explain later, Foaly," Holly said, returning her gaze to Artemis. "She's got your parents. They're… mind wiped or something. We need to get back there, Artemis. Do you have a plan?"

It was as if Holly's words had cleared his mind. The idea of his parents under the thumb of Opal Koboi lit a fire in Artemis' chest.

"Of course I do," he replied, treating Holly to his best vampire smile. She had never been so relieved to see that smile.

* * *

**AN:** **How many times do I need to say I'm sorry for this being so late? I'm not sure, but just imagine I've said it the minimum number of times for your satisfaction. While I'm just as displeased as you are that this chapter has arrived so late, I do at least have good excuses. Notably, this chapter has been the victim of a horrible writers' block. I've been experimenting with different medication doses for my ADHD, dealing with post-college stress (even though I have one more year to go) and some friendships have hit some rocky bumps. This has all combined with the fact that this chapter was fundamentally difficult to put together. There is a lot of exposition that I needed to get across to set up for later drama and I just wasn't sure how to do that.**

**Ultimately, this chapter isn't my best and I hope I do better in the future. Apologies to my readers for the lateness and lack of quality in this particular chapter. I hope to make it up to you. Just don't give up on me yet… please? God bless.**

**Big thanks to LadyoftheSea516 for giving me some advice on how to handle this chapter and for the encouragement you always give with your reviews. Any of my readers who are a fan of Batman should definitely check out her stuff. It's excellent.**


	10. Hostile Takeover

**Fowl Manor, 2005**

No. 1 came back to himself on the floor of Fowl Manor, still in the meditative position as the light shining from his runes faded.

"Did it work?" he asked, turning to see Captain Short and the two humans. Only, Captain Short wasn't there. And instead of two humans there were four. And the two new ones were pointing guns directly at the Butlers. Had he done something wrong? He thought he'd set the ritual up correctly.

The diminutive figure standing between the two gun-wielding humans twirled around with an expression of pure joy. Although she was pretty, the smile she gave sent ice down the warlock's back.

"After a fashion," said the girl. "Your ritual has allowed me to do away with one my more niggling problems. An anvil hanging over my plans that I no longer have to worry about dropping."

"Glad... I could help?" No. 1 said haltingly. The girl gave him another smile and another chill went through him.

"Awww, he's simple!" she cooed. "How adorable!" She snapped her fingers and the male human whipped around. His eyes stared straight ahead of him, unseeing. No. 1 didn't think things could get more unnerving.

"Kill him for me, will you?" the girl told the gunman. "No need to be clean about it. I like making a statement." The gun clicked. The barrel pointed straight at No. 1's face. He shut his eyes and prayed to whatever gods that were listening that he would have a nice afterlife.

"If you shoot him," said the booming voice of the elder Butler, "good luck getting your hands on Artemis."

No. 1 opened his eyes and saw the girl give a giggle.

"I don't think I need the help of a stubby little warlock to find Fowl." Her voice was steady, but No. 1 could swear there was hunger in her tones. "In fact, I'll bet he's hiding somewhere in this house right now. I'll tear down the walls brick by brick, dig the foundations out of the earth if I have to. There is nowhere he can hide from me. Not now."

"Well, I hope you're got a spare time machine lying around then," said Juliet, flashing the short girl a mocking grin. The girl turned slowly to where No. 1 had created the portal, her face dawning with comprehension. Quick as blinking her cheeks burned red.

"Warlock..." The girl's breathing sounded like it was under a heavy amount of control as a vein throbbed in her forehead. "Open the portal back up. Now."

No. 1 blinked at her. He wasn't exactly looking to antagonize this temperamental little girl who had two armed bodyguards at her disposal. But he also knew he couldn't just rip open a new hole in the fabric of time. So, he remained silent and unmoving, stuck between death and betrayal.

The girl snapped twice and the male human handed her a small pistol from inside his suit jacket. She pointed the barrel directly at the warlock's face and pulled the hammer back with a heavy _CLICK_.

"Open the time stream and bring me Artemis Fowl." Her voice was crackling with barely suppressed rage, her knuckles white on the pistol grip. No. 1 gulped, finally settling on an avenue he thought might sedate her.

"What for?" he asked. The girl blinked but otherwise didn't react. "Artemis is out of your way. Whatever plans you have, he's not here to stop them. He's not even in the same time. There's no need to bring him back here; he'd just muck things up for you, right?"

There was a moment of silence except for the slightly heavy breathing of their diminutive assailant. No. 1 could hear his heart pounding in his ears as he waited, the ticking of a clock on the mantlepiece letting him know just how long it was taking him to come to either death or capture.

Finally, the girl pushed the hammer forward and No. 1 gave a sigh of relief. She'd seen the logic in what he said and was going to let him live. Maybe she'd just take him prisoner.

Then, the girl tossed the gun into the air and caught it by the barrel with a practiced hand. She raised it above her head and with a primal shriek of rage she swung it down onto the warlock's skull. He crumpled to the floor, curled into a ball as she brought the butt of the weapon down on him again, this time catching him in the ribs.

"You idiot!" she screamed, wildly flailing at him with the gun, hitting him over and over again with sharp, painful strikes. "I wanted my revenge! I wanted to see the light leave the eyes of that stupid, impudent human before I took over the underground! If I can't get him back here, make him suffer, then all these years have been for nothing! NOTHING!"

She stepped away, breathing heavily, leaving No. 1 trembling in pain on the floor. She ran a hand through her hair and adjusted her clothes. "So," she said, voice now more level than it had been, "bring me Artemis Fowl and I won't have to kill you or your friends." No. 1 didn't look up even as he heard the hammer being pulled on the pistol. He knew that this mad woman was aiming it right at his friends, preparing to fire and bring their lives to an end. But he couldn't do it, he couldn't bring Artemis back and let the woman have her way with him. He wrapped himself tighter into a ball and winced as he waited for the gunshot.

"Wait!" No. 1 perked up at the new voice. A female with a soft French accent. "You don't have to do this."

The woman snickered. "And why not?" No. 1 looked up and saw Minerva Paradiso standing near the Butlers, her hands over her head. She looked terrified.

"Because there's more than one warlock underground," she replied. No. 1 felt his heart stop and the Butlers threw her a panicked look.

"The LEP has another Warlock?" The madwoman was studying Minerva, the gun now held lazily at her side. Minerva nodded.

"Yes, they have an older one, a more experienced one. He could get you Artemis back in one piece. You don't need this one."

The woman looked over at No. 1, considering. No. 1 was speechless; if this woman decided she didn't need him anymore she'd kill him and then probably kill the rest of them. What was Minerva thinking? He flicked his eyes over to her and she caught his gaze. She mouthed something to him an instant before the woman turned back to her. _Teleport_.

"Well," the woman said, walking over to No. 1, "I suppose I don't have much use for you now." She raised the gun and pulled the trigger. In the split second before the bullet let the chamber, No. 1 activated the rune on his left shoulder and was instantly transported to the other side of the room, next to Minerva Paradiso and the Butlers. The bullet struck the wooden floor and the woman shrieked.

"Kill them!" The two humans turned their shotguns on the four of them. Minerva grabbed onto No. 1's shoulder and the Butlers each grabbed his other arm. No. 1 felt the teleportation rune light up on his shoulder and they were gone, reappearing just outside the Paradiso family mansion.

"Who was that woman?" he asked. Minerva didn't answer him, running into her house. Butler looked at him with a grave expression.

"That," he said, "was Opal Koboi." The name sent a shiver down No. 1's back.

* * *

Opal Koboi was having such a good day until she suddenly wasn't. She had drugged Artemis' parents into being her slaves. She had located Fowl Manor and found herself in a prime position to be rid of Captain Holly Short. She had done so, throwing her into the bowels of time. Things had been going swimmingly, one after the other. Now, she found that she was without Artemis, that she had to go underground to get a warlock to do it and her prisoners had escaped. She drew a poker from beside the fireplace and whacked it hard against Mrs. Fowl's leg. Mrs. Fowl didn't budge; she was programmed to ignore any pain that Opal might inflict upon her.

"DAMMIT!" she yelled, throwing the poker across the room. It tore through a priceless Dutch painting on the wall. She imagined for a moment that it was Artemis' face and the tearing paper was his skin was peeling off.

"Mummy!" Opal whipped around to find a small child running from the foot of the stairs. Another child, a twin, followed close behind. They threw their arms around the legs of her two slaves and she cocked an eyebrow. Artemis had siblings? This could be exploitable.

"Master Fowl, Mrs. Fowl." Her two slaves looked down at her. "Do take care of your children while I plan a few things. We have an underground to invade." She left the four of them in the living room, the Fowl parents returning their children's' passionate embrace with no warmth of their own.


	11. Trust Issues

**LEP Headquarters, Underground, 1998**

When Holly was brought into the office of Commander Root, she thought his heart might've blown right there. He coughed, choking on his cigar smoke when Foaly brought Holly into the room. Both of them. Holly stared at her past self, who was staring right back at her.

"Foaly!" Root choked, finally regaining his breath. "Please tell me I'm hallucinating. Because I would much rather be on medical discharge than admit what I'm seeing right now is real."

Foaly shrugged. "Sorry, Commander," he said, not sounding sorry at all. In fact, the centaur sounded quite smug. "Looks like Fowl was telling the truth. Meet Captain Holly Short, 2005 edition."

Holly stood at attention and tried to keep the tears behind her eyes from spilling out. The last time she'd seen Julius Root, she had been forced to shoot him as part of a trap set up by Opal Koboi. Now that he was in front of her, alive, it was all she could do to not throw herself at him and apologize again and again for letting him die. So, she promised herself a good cry once they were done with whatever this was.

"And where is the Fowl kid?" Root growled.

"He requested a quiet room for isolation, sir," Past Holly replied, striking the exact same posture of attention that Holly herself had. It must've been a sight because Root dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. "He said he needed to come up with a plan. He's in the interrogation room, sir."

Root took a few very long draws on his cigar, his head becoming concealed by a cloud of the fungal smoke.

"Captain Short," he barked.

"Which one, Commander?" both Holly's asked at the same time. Foaly covered his mouth to stifle his giggles. The commander was not as amused.

"The one that came out of that goddamn portal!" he cried, face the red-purple hue of a ripe plum.

Holly took a step forward.

"From what Fowl has told us," the Commander began, grinding out his cigar and lighting a new one, "you've had first-hand experience with him. As an accomplice. Is this true?"

"Yessir." Holly nodded. That answer didn't seem to please the commander at all.

"So, can we trust him?" Root's teeth ground the butt of his cigar.

Holly didn't answer immediately. When it came to Artemis Fowl, trust was a difficult topic. It wasn't that he _couldn't_ be trusted, but it was incredibly difficult.

"He is a friend, sir," she decided. "And loyal, but he is..." She trailed off, thinking of the best word to describe her friend.

"Slippery?" Root filled in.

"Deceptive?" Foaly suggested.

"A human?" Past Holly spat.

"Ruthless," Holly finished. "His heart is in the right place and he will get the job done. But he'll get it done by any means necessary. Sometimes, that means taking a few... risks."

There were several moments of silence as the other three fairies in the room processed her very deliberate answer.

"Can Fowl do what he says?" Root asked, finally. "Can he get you two back to your own time? Save the world and all that?"

"Yessir," she assured him. _Save the world?_ she thought. _Artemis, what have we gotten into _now_?_

"Thank you, Captain Short," the Commander grunted. "You'll be called back when we need you. For now, dismissed."

Holly snapped a salute and stepped out of the office. She could feel the eyes of her younger self follow her, heavy with suspicion.

As soon as the door closed, Holly ran through the hallways of Police Plaza, rushing past indignant officers and sliding into more than one wall as momentum carried her forward. She ducked into the lady's toilet, locked herself in one of the stalls and finally allowed herself to weep. Commander Root had been like a father to her, even with his blunt countenance and hair-trigger temper. When he had been killed, she wept. And now that she had seen him alive again, she wept even harder.

She felt exhausted when she was done, her cheeks stained with tears, but also refreshed. The feelings of sorrow that she had been carrying with her were off her shoulders now. She could think clearly again.

She grabbed a few sheets of tissue from the dispensary and blew her nose loudly. She stood up shakily and dropped the tissues into the toilet, which instantly vaporized them. It would now break down its chemical makeup and distribute the appropriate nutrients back to the earth. She stepped back out into the hallway and made for the interrogation room. She had a mind to speak with Artemis.

* * *

Artemis sat in the meditative position on the stainless steel table in the middle of the interrogation room. When he had asked for an isolated place in which to meditate, he had been given this room almost immediately. Artemis knew Police Plaza well enough to know that there were dozens of other rooms that could've fit his need and he suspected that he had been put here so that he could be monitored through the wall of one-way mirror glass. Artemis wanted to turn slowly towards it, just to scare the hell out of whoever might be watching him, but now was hardly the time. He needed to focus on making a plan and quickly. Now that Holly was here, she would also be a victim of a slowly deteriorating mind. And she could only keep herself stable for so long with the magic she had.

Artemis took deep, calming breaths, trying to focus on the positive. When he thought about it, he had been in situations much worse than this. What was a bit of time displacement when he had been displaced before? What was a bit of memory loss compared with escaping the LEP time field, something that had never been done before? Hell, he _had_ lost his memory before, wiped clean of all recollections of the fairies and their magic, and he had still managed to beat Opal Koboi. Yes, he had been in much bigger trouble than this. Though, he had never been on such an intense time crunch before.

The crackling of the room's intercom broke Artemis from his contemplative trance. He was going to request that whoever it was leave him alone, when Holly's voice came through the speaker.

"Artemis," she called. "I need to talk to you."

Artemis didn't respond. This could easily not be _his_ Holly. Commander Root could be using the Holly of this time to get some information out of him. He turned his head slowly towards the one-way mirror, the glass gazing back at him like a giant, black eye.

"How many warlocks are currently alive?" he asked.

"Two," Holly replied. "One is named Qwan and he has an apprentice who calls himself No. 1."

Artemis smiled. "Good to have a familiar face here, Holly. Or, in this case, a familiar voice."

"Yes, I'm glad you're not dead, Artemis. Now, would you mind telling me why the Commander thinks the fate of the world rests on us getting home."

Artemis shifted uncomfortably. "Ah, yes, that. I may have fed our old friend a story about the time stream folding in on itself if he didn't help us."

Artemis could imagine Holly rubbing her eyes in frustration. "You never learn, do you? When has lying to the people you're working with ever been a good idea?"

Artemis turned his gaze away from the glass, even though he couldn't _see_ Holly's eyes boring into him. She was the only one who could do this to him, make him feel this guilty.

"What else was I supposed to do?" he argued. "They didn't trust me. And they never would've helped me if they didn't have any stake in the outcome."

"This'll come back to bite us, Artemis," insisted Holly, though Artemis noted that she didn't disagree with him. "Somehow, someway, it always comes back to bite us in the arse."

"Well, we do actually have a legitimate problem," Artemis admitted. He could imagine Holly's eyes rolling so dramatically they might pop out of her head.

"What, Artemis?" Her voice was tense in that way it got when she wanted to strangle him: dangerously level and expectant. "What is our 'legitimate problem'?"

Artemis explained to her about their deteriorating minds. Holly was silent for a long time and Artemis tensed waiting for her response.

"How many times are you going to drag me into situations in which we're likely to die?" she asked finally.

"I didn't think this would be a factor," he said defensively. "How could I have? It wasn't an issue the last time. There's been no evidence to suggest it before now. And even-"

"Why did yo u have to perform the Ritual, Artemis?" Holly cut him off. "Why would you even attempt it? There's a reason no human has ever done it. You had no idea what it could've done to you. For all you know, it could've killed you. You have two little brothers, a girlfriend, a set of parents who love you and, believe it or not, honest to God friends. Several of whom are the reason I'm here right now. They tried to help me bring you back. What would any of us have done if you had died? Did you ever think for a second? No, of course not, because the great Artemis Fowl is invincible and can never die."

Artemis was glad he couldn't see Holly's face. He didn't think he could stand to see her looking at him with such disappointment and betrayal. He tried not to cry; he had never cried in front of anybody except for his father and Butler. It felt wrong to cry in front of Holly. Embarrassing.

"Can you forgive me?" he asked, swallowing, closing his eyes tightly trying not to let tears fall. "Because I'm sorry, Holly. I'm sorry I got us into this. I'm sorry I lied about my magic. I'm sorry that I didn't think of what would happen I just... the magic was... I didn't want to lose it, I..." He couldn't say another word without breaking down, so he bowed his head and kept quiet, a lump in his throat. The guilt was beyond anything he had ever felt before. He wondered if any word of apology would make amends for what he did; apologies from Artemis Fowl generally weren't worth much.

There was a buzz and the heavy sound of the lock clunking open. Artemis looked up and saw Holly holding open the door. The look on her face wasn't accusing or disappointed, but expecting. Artemis dropped to the floor, his head still hung low and dragged himself over to his friend. Once he was outside, Holly shut the door and didn't say a word. Artemis didn't dare look her in the eye.

Then, Holly's thin, strong arms were around him and Artemis could no longer hold his tears. He buried his face against her chest, letting out sobs of guilt and fear. He noticed that for the first time since they'd known each other, he was shorter than her, only coming up to her collarbone. They had always been of the same height until recently in his own time, as he began to grow taller with adolescence. It was oddly comforting, to have somebody taller hold him.

"I forgive you, Artemis." The words were sweeter than he deserved and Artemis pulled back to look up at Holly. He own eyes were puffy from crying and Artemis could guess why. It had been all _he_ could do to not cry when he saw Root. He could only imagine what it would've been like for Holly.

"I will say that this has been a major blow," she continued. "It hurt me when I found out you'd kept this from me, but I do forgive you. I know where your heart is and I know that you never would've done anything to hurt me or anyone else. Just, tell me these things? We're best friends; we're supposed to be able to tell each other anything."

"I know, I know," Artemis croaked, wiping his cheeks. "I'm sorry. I'll tell you everything now, I swear."

"Good." Holly gave his shoulder a little pat as he calmed down. "Did you manage to cook up a plan while you were in there?"

"Yeah," he said, still steading his breathing. "Yes, I've got this. Don't worry."

"I'm always worried with you," Holly said, smirking. Artemis couldn't help but smile as well.

"Right then," he said, making a show of dusting himself off. "Let's go find Foaly and the Commander. I have a plan to pitch."

* * *

They found Foaly in his laboratory, studying the technology that Holly had brought with her from the present. Commander Root and Past Holly followed behind them as Artemis swatted at the centaur's hands, which were currently turning a Neutrino 3000 pistol as he studied it.

"Set those down, pony boy," Artemis chided affectionately. "No advanced technology for you. You'll get to them yourself at least a decade down the line."

"I know that, mudboy," Foaly retorted, setting down the gun. "I've read just as many time travel stories as you have. I know what happens when you mess with the timeline."

"And yet you still couldn't help but touch them," Holly joined in the teasing.

"It's just nice to see I improve, is all," Foaly said defensively.

"Well, quit inflating your own ego, Foaly," Root spat. "Gods know it's big enough already. Fowl's got a plan, apparently, and his plan includes you."

The centaur perked up at that. What sort of plan for time travel would require his services? He wasn't exactly an expert.

"Alright, Fowl." He slipped into his modified rolling chair. "Let's hear what you've got." All eyes were on Artemis as he picked up a dissected communication headset and began fiddling absently with the circuits.

"Are any of you familiar with the works of H.G. Wells?" he asked. Each of them nodded or shook their head or gave a noncommittal shrug. Every one of them looked confused except for Holly. His Holly, who had by now accepted that Artemis Fowl would always throw you a curveball.

"He was an English writer," he continued, his fingers still busy at the headset's loose wiring. "He wrote several science fiction novels, most notably 'War of the Worlds'. And while many of these stories of his were clearly fiction, as there has been a frankly disappointing lack of alien invasions and invisible men reported in our lifetime, there is one story which I believe might prove quite real."

"'The Time Machine'," Foaly guessed. Artemis smiled as he connected two pieces of wire.

"Precisely, Foaly," he replied, fishing around a pile of spare parts for a new microphone.

"What makes you so sure that a mudman story could be real?" Root asked. "It could just as easily be fiction. What evidence do you have to go on here?"

"Fair questions, Commander." Artemis found a microphone and replaced the damaged one in the headset. "Firstly, just because it is commonly accepted as fiction doesn't mean that it is so. Many have believed, and still believe, that your kind are fictional, the results of thousands of years of Western narrative tradition." Root grunted, conceding. "Secondly, I have been doing some research into the evolution of several fairy species. And I believe that Eloi and Morlocks presented in Wells' book may possibly be genetic ancestors of fairies and trolls."

"Um, Fowl," Foaly interjected. "I hate to burst your bubble, but that novel was set in the future, remember? It was supposed to be about the fall of humanity."

"True enough." Artemis slid a SIM card into the side of the headset. "However, I have reason to believe that rather than landing in a post-apocalyptic hellscape, the time-traveling protagonist, whoever he was, actually landed in pre-Medieval England, in the time even before the monarchy of the fairies. It's theorized that during the Iron Age, before the arrival of the Celts, there was a time when the Neanderthals on the island had died out and the island was left completely abandoned. However, I believe that the time traveler may have been taken to that exact gap of time when the fairy ancestors were free to walk the empty lands, their only rivals the Morlocks, ancestors of the trolls who hunted them at night."

"And what good does this theory do us?" Artemis looked up; it was the first time Past Holly had spoken. She was still looking at Artemis with skepticism. "So what if the book was real and took place in the past? We can't recreate it; it's not like that time machine is still around."

"Actually..." Artemis and Foaly both said at once. Past Holly looked at Foaly like he'd betrayed her.

"The one used for the film?" asked Foaly, tapping furiously at his keyboard.

"The very same," Artemis replied. "I believe that after the adventure that inspired the book, the time traveller may have dismantled it or tried to sell it. If this is correct, then the time machine used in the 1960 adaptation of the novel may just have been the actual machine used to make the journey in the first place."

"That's quite a leap to make, Artemis," Holly admitted. "I mean, how can you be sure? The machine could've looked different or just recreated using different machinery. Any number of other possibilities could've occurred."

"I know." Artemis sounded exasperated and his shoulders sagged. "But with the design consistency throughout the years it makes sense. And the de-evolved states of the Morlocks and Eloi make it possible that they were fairy ancestors, not descendants. Besides," and at this Artemis looked desperate, "it's the only hope we've got. There's no other shot."

The room was very quiet as the five of them digested this. If Artemis was wrong and if the time machine was not real and unable to function, he and Holly would be stuck here and their minds would slowly disintegrate until they were no longer themselves.

Root was the first to find his voice. "Well, where do we start getting our hands on this thing."

"We're in luck on that one actually," Foaly said, looking up from his computer. "The time machine is set to be put on display in the National History Museum in Washington DC, part of their American film exhibit."

"Museum like that's gonna have a lot of security," Root pointed out. "We'd need a whole team of officers in order to get in there without anybody noticing. We might even need to stop time and that's gonna take a few days to set up. Days we might not have."

"No need to bring any of your officers into this, Commander." Artemis fitted the now finished headset around his cranium and heard the soft buzz of static come in through the earpiece. "We just need to bring in one of your convicts."

Root spun around. "Pardon?"

Artemis smiled at Holly, who grinned back at him impishly.

"What cell is Mulch Diggums in these days?" she asked.


End file.
